


Something Just Like This

by smolandgrumpy



Series: Something Just Like This Saga [1]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Play, Angst, Choking, Dirty Talk, Dry Humping, F/M, Face-Sitting, Feelings, Fingerfucking, Fluff, Grinding, Masturbation, Minor Character Death, Mobster AU, Mutual Masturbation, Mutual Pining, Oral Sex, Porn With Plot, Porn with Feelings, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Praise Kink, Public Masturbation, Shower Sex, Slow Burn, Smut, Spanking, Sweet Talk, Unprotected Sex, Vaginal Fingering, Violence, War Hero Dean Winchster, War Veteran Dean Winchester, thigh riding
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-09
Updated: 2020-05-08
Packaged: 2021-02-27 08:20:13
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 40
Words: 146,805
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22183969
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/smolandgrumpy/pseuds/smolandgrumpy
Summary: ..Dean Winchester, mobster boss. He’s a little cocky, a lot ruthless and more often than not, short tempered.But he’s also, Dean Winchester, a war veteran and hero who suffers under a shit ton of PTS.He met her in a bar and thinks it’s fate that brought her to him. Little does he know why she’s really here...
Relationships: Dean Winchester/OC, Dean Winchester/OFC, Dean Winchester/Reader, Dean Winchester/You
Series: Something Just Like This Saga [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1736623
Comments: 368
Kudos: 237





	1. CH.01

**Author's Note:**

> The story is not war-centric. The war will only be mentioned in the first couple of chapters, to let us see how Dean ticks.
> 
> The war hero really does exists and what Dean suffered in Afghanistan really happend. I took the base of Dean’s war time from Ty Carter. The only difference is, that Ty really got his life back on track and became a spokesperson for his fellow veterans who have a hard time dealing with PTS. Dean doesn’t cope that well (but what else is new).

_ There’s ringing in Dean’s ears. A sound so penetrating, it hurt his head.  _

_ “Are you okay?”  _

_ A voice.  _

_ Loud, amid the shelling around him. _

_ Dean blinked.  _

_ “Are you okay?” _

_ It was his squad leader who sat in front of him in the attacked Humvee. _

_ With a jolt, Dean wakes up and sits up straight in his bed. Little droplets of sweat dripping down his forehead, his heart is racing out of his chest. _

_ He rubs his face, pinches the bridge of his nose, willing the sounds and the noise of war to go away.  _

_ A damn dream. Only a dream.  _

He mutters to himself, rubbing a palm over his jaw, and chuckles with tears in his eyes. __

_ A fucking nightmare.  _

He reaches out for the bottle on his nightstand and notices the digits of the clock illuminating the pitch black room, telling him that it was 7:21AM.

______________________________________________

_ Supervisory Special Agent Linda Tran _ is painted in big bold letters on the door, yet Y/N decides to forego knocking and bursts right in.

“Knocking would be in order,” Linda scolds and looks up at Y/N from her paperwork. Y/N smashes the newspaper on Linda’s desk on top of all the files.

“This,” Y/N grins, “This is my fucking chance, Linda!”

The older woman picks up the newspaper sending Y/N a glare, before she returns her eyes over the inked paper to read it.

“I can’t let you do this,” Linda looks up to Y/N while she shakes her head, handing the newspaper back. It’s folded to a job advertisement with black bold circles around it. 

Y/N paces around the room of the tiny office, “Why not?” She throws her arms in the air theatrically, for good measure, “I want to do it! Put me on the case, Linda, please?” 

Linda puts down her glasses, pinches over the bridge of her nose with her thumb and forefinger and lets out an audible sigh, “Because,” Linda says, “You just started here a year ago. You’re good, Y/N, you’re fucking good, I admit, but I can’t let you do this.” 

“That’s right, I’m good and you know it!” Y/N’s hand braces on the desk as she stares down at her supervisor. 

“It’s too personal for you,” Linda says, staring right back at her and Y/N knows that look, having seen it more often than not. It means Linda’s decisions are final. There’s nothing she could do to make Linda change her mind. But she’s going to try nonetheless.

“It’s not,” Y/N whines, and Linda raises her eyebrows. Y/N sighs, “Well, yeah it is, but I’m the best! I can do it, you know I can. Please, give me that, and I’ll never ask you for anything ever again!”

Linda turns around in her chair, and Y/N knows what the woman's looking at. There’s a picture of Linda — shaking her dad’s hand — framed on the shelf, next to the medals Linda has earned. They were partners when they started here and now her dad’s gone. Linda’s sitting in the chair her dad should have been in. It’s a loss they both suffered and never really recovered from.

“I’ll think about it.” 

It’s muttered under Linda’s breath, and Y/N’s fucking beaming. 

______________________________________________

Dean sits on the empty bar stool, the one that is always empty because it’s his place. It’s like an unwritten rule in the Roadhouse and everyone knows. 

His gaze is downcast. It has been one hell of a day and the night just fucking started. He needs a goddamn drink before he can even  _ pretend  _ to be able to function. 

Ellen’s Roadhouse is packed like always. It’s only 9PM, people are still rushing in. Restless people, lost souls, and people like him, who like to escape the noise of the city and find a safe haven for themselves. Find an isle with plenty of booze to go by when things are getting too overwhelming.

“What can I get you?”

A voice makes him look up from the bar top. 

Dean looks straight up and into the eyes of a girl he’s never seen here before. There’s a smile on her face, her eyes sparkle in the light, her hair’s up in a ponytail. 

He’s not used to being asked what he wants. Ellen usually knows and slides a tumbler over, wordlessly. Because that’s exactly what he isn’t here for — talking. He’d rather just sit in silence and drink with his own demons. It’s easier to drink with them than fighting them, Dean realizes after he came back from Afghanistan. Everything seems easier when his head is free from dark thoughts. Especially at night before he goes to sleep.

“Where’s Ellen?” He asks, because honestly, he doesn’t know what else to say, it feels like he’s just been punched in the chest and he is taken aback by the briskness of a girl that’s still smiling, probably waiting for him to answer her. He’s never seen anyone being so damn cheerful. At least not in this kind of place.

“She’s in the back, inventory or something,” The girl says. She’s still grinning, and there’s someone yelling their orders at her but she’s still standing here, looking him in the eye. She clearly has no fucking clue who he is, and Dean doesn’t entirely hate the idea of that.

There’s another shout, “Can we get something to drink over here!” 

The girl looks away, shooting a death glare at the man who’s being rude, “Get the fuck in line, alright?” 

She turns back to face Dean again, producing a smile upon her face that’s so innocent and sweet it damn near broke his heart. She clears her throat but the goddamn smile’s still there, “So, I think people are getting impatient. What can I get you?” 

He blinks, his lips are moving but there’s nothing coming out of him, and he doesn’t really understand why. He’s not really bad at the talking thing. Could probably turn on his charm, maybe get her to the back, using Ash’s room to make her scream but here he is, speechless and probably looking like a goddamn fool.

“Listen, if you need more time, I will go and serve that asshole first,” She tilts her chin towards the man who yelled before, making Dean grin in the process and it’s a weird feeling. Smiling, that is. He hasn’t done that a lot lately.

She’s a feisty little thing and yeah, Dean likes that.

“Whiskey, neat. Please and thank you,” Dean’s voice is back and he breathes out a relief, smirking a little when she winks before she turns around and pours him the whiskey.

He knows that Ellen keeps his particular brand of whiskey in the pantry to the girl’s right foot, but he doesn’t say anything. He’ll drink whatever she gives him. 

Dean watches her, sees her back moving, asking himself how a girl like her ends up here when she’s not born into the life. When she could clearly find other work in some other not so shady places.

“Hey, I didn’t expect you here,” Ellen walks along behind the counter, her notepad still in her hand as she makes her way past the girl towards the till. 

“Yeah, you did.” Dean scoffs.

“Right, I did. Haven’t seen you for five days, thought you were dead, boy.” Ellen smiles a little, probably relieved that Dean’s alive, at least he hopes she is. 

It isn’t long before Ellen notices the girl placing a tumbler of whiskey in front of Dean. He can literally watch Ellen’s eyes widen as she grabs the girl by her arm to pull her aside, “What whiskey did you pour him?” 

“It’s fine, Ellen.” Dean interrupts, knowing full well that Ellen might go off on the girl, and he’d like to avoid that. He could have told the girl himself where to find his whiskey, if he really wanted to, but he has chosen not to, so really, it’s on him.

The girl doesn’t answer, too intimidated, Dean guesses, and he sees her eyes darting between him and Ellen, as if she’s trying to read from their faces what she did wrong.

“I said it’s fine!” Dean says again, more firm as his eyes meet the girl’s.

Ellen rolls her eyes at him, but she’s still holding the girl back by her arm, her finger tips already turning white by the way she tightens her grip around the girl and Dean can’t help but wonder if it will leave bruises on the skin that looks smooth and soft. Wonders, if he could make her bruise and mark her up. Wonders, if she would let him. 

“Whatever he wants, he gets it, you understand?” Ellen says with a voice of authority. Sometimes that voice even makes Dean stand at attention, even if he didn’t do anything wrong.

The girl's eyes are trained on Dean and she nods as a small smile tugs at the corner of her lips.


	2. CH.02

_ As Dean looked out through the broken windshield of the Humvee, he saw Milligan stagger back. Milligan struggled to hold himself up, he had to brace himself on the barrells to his left, before he lost balance and Dean watched as Milligan’s body made contact with the ground.  _

_ “Milligan!” Dean shouted out, his vocal chords already hurting, strained from the screaming he did before.  _

_ Dean placed his hand on his squad leader’s shoulder who’s sitting in the front, the man’s hands were working on the radio unit that was dead silent. “You’ve got to let me go get him.” _

_ “You’re insane, Winchester,” The squad leader muttered under his breath, “For all I know, we could be the only ones still alive!” _

_ “Let me go get him!” _

_ Dean didn’t really know why he wanted to go out there while it rained fucking bullets, and the Taliban already penetrated the camp. He wasn’t even close to Milligan, in fact, he was not close to any one of them, but he knew that Milligan was still alive and they’ll fucking lose him if his squad leader won’t let Dean go out and get him. _

_ There’s a sound in the distance, some kind of siren. _

_ No, not sirens.  _

_ A phone. _

_ His phone. _

Dean opens up his eyes that are embarrassingly wet. He reaches out for the phone, picking it up without looking at the caller ID.

“Hello,”

“Well, hello there princess, so glad you’re alive!” 

“Cas,” Dean huffs out, rubbing his palm over his face, brushing at the tear that rolls down and sits upright. He steals a glance at the clock, it’s 8.32AM. 

“Awe, and you even remember my name!”

Dean can swear he only slept for two hours tops. He remembers leaving the Roadhouse in a hurry because Cas had called as there was some trouble with the cargo. Dean had left before he could even find out her name, and before he could finish that damn whiskey. 

He remembers going back to the bar later. Ellen was already in the process of closing up and the girl had left. Ellen asked if Dean wanted to stay and have a drink but he politely declined before he came back and raided the bar in his apartment. 

And it’s weird that all he thought about while he was drinking was not really the war. It was not really the pressure of fitting back into a world without said fucking war. Not really the responsibility and burden to carry on with the family business after the death of his father. No, his thoughts revolved around her and he didn’t even know why. 

There are things happening that he can’t explain and he can’t even say that he likes that. If anything, Dean hates not being able to be in control. He hates to feel helpless. It’s like that day at  _ Combat Outpost Keating _ . The day he lost a part of himself.

“Are you still with me, boss?” 

Dean moves to the edge of the bed and tries to get up, “Yeah,”

“Well, just wanted to remind you of the meeting at 9AM.”

“I know, Cas. I’m the one who called for the meeting.” 

“Just wanna make sure. Do I have to come pick you up?”

Dean knows that Cas wanting to pick him up is Cas’ way to make sure that Dean will show up. There had been countless times that he missed meetings because of his drinking habit and he really doesn’t understand why they are still loyal to him. Why they’re all still putting up with his sorry ass.

“I can manage. Thanks.”

With that, Dean hangs up and tosses the phone onto the bed before he walks into the shower.

______________________________________________

Y/N doesn’t know if Dean would come in tonight since he left in a hurry last night, so when a tall handsome man walks through the door, dressed too nice for the place, she can’t lie that she feels like a weight has been lifted from her heart. It’s some kind of a weird sense of joy that she’s feeling, even though she should  _ not  _ be feeling that, probably.

Their eyes meet and if she’s not wrong, she can see the corner of his lips curving up, producing a small smile. He looks good when he smiles. 

Dean sits down, and tonight Y/N doesn’t ask him what he wants. She slides the tumbler over before he even settles. 

Now, there’s a grin on his face and this time, she’s sure that it isn’t just a Fata Morgana. She smiles back before she gets on with her tasks.

It’s two hours later and people start to go home or are on their way back to whatever responsibilities they were escaping from. 

That’s how it works with the Roadhouse, she figured. People here are night owls. Mostly operating in the shadows of the dark because they all got something to hide. 

Y/N has a hard time concentrating on her tasks because Dean’s always watching her. As if he wants to read her mind, as if he wants to see if she knows who he really is. 

Of course she knows who he is. Her main target. Nothing else, right? 

_ Right. _

She’s slicing up some lemon and lime when he starts to talk.  _ It took him long enough _ , she thinks. He’s been mostly sitting here, staring at his phone or at her while he sips on his glass, which she refilled thrice already.

“So, you’re new?” His voice is whiskey rough, low and smooth and it’s music to her ears. She can understand him clearly, even with the bass that’s coming out from the jukebox that’s drumming in her ears.

She looks at him but is still cutting away blindly, “Yeah, saw the ad in the newspaper.” 

“Why this bar? Doesn’t look like it’s your scene?” Dean holds his fourth drink between his thumb and middle finger, his index finger points at her and he tilts his head back to drink. She can see him squint at the burn. 

“You don’t know me, how should you know what’s my scene?” She turns around, searching for the box of lemons she knows she placed in the pantry earlier today, and even though she knows that she’d already cut more than she’ll ever be needing, she doesn’t want to stop because she doesn’t want for Dean to stop talking to her. Especially now when he finally does talk. 

Y/N finds the little box and turns back to cut the lemon at the workstation that’s right in front of Dean. Her face burns up and she hopes that it doesn’t make her look like an idiot.

Dean shrugs, “You look,” He pauses and she sees him thinking carefully about his next words, “Too innocent, for this place. Too good, actually. I doubt that someone who’s not exactly born into the life where their parents own a dingy dive bar, there’s no way any girl would want to work here. Look around, it’s not exactly a nice place, is it?” 

Of course he’s right and she hates how right he is, the way he  _ knows  _ that he’s right. There’s no way that she would have wanted to work here, if it wasn’t for him. The Roadhouse is a place with greasy bikers and truckers, but mostly, criminals. She wonders if he knows that he too, looks like he doesn’t fit in. He’s wearing a black fucking suit, a stark contrast against his white shirt. The tie is still tight around his neck (not like she’s staring at his Adam's apple the whole evening to have noticed it).

Y/N thinks that he’s attractive, she can’t lie about that. The crinkles around his eyes crease deep when he smiles (not that he’s doing a lot of that), the scruff on his face doesn’t really look groomed but it doesn’t make the man less good looking. 

And it’s different. Different seeing the target in real life instead of pictures and surveillance camera footage. God, those pictures and videos don't do him justice at all.

He’s raising an eyebrow, as if he’s waiting for an answer and she almost forgot what he asked or what they talked about before. She’s too lost in the green of his eyes.

“Ellen needed help, and I needed a job,” She shrugs before she places the cut off half of lemon into a bowl, “She said her daughter had left to work in the city.” She looks at him to see if there’s a reaction. 

It was true. Ellen did tell her, but she already knew what happened. Jo Harvelle is now working for Dean Winchester and Jo’s apparently pretty damn good at what she does. 

“Ow, Fuck!” She hisses out and frowns, abandons the knife in her hand to hold her middle finger.  _ That’s a fucking amateur move,  _ she thinks,  _ cutting yourself while slicing lemon. Great fucking job, Y/N! _

Before she can even decide what she does first — if she should rinse her finger or if she should just put her dish towel around it — Dean’s beside her. He has a hand on her wrist and pulls her towards the sink. Turning on the water tap he holds her finger under it, his other hand examines the wound under the stream of water.

“You’re lucky that the knife didn’t go too deep,” He says and tilts his head to look down at her.

She knows a lot about Dean Winchester. What he does, where he likes to go, even his favorite food, but she didn’t expect him to be this tall.

Her face flares up. 

“I’m alright, thanks. I can take it from here,” Y/N feels the sting of the wound that travels up her arm to her heart. She fucking hates looking at a gashing wound to be honest, and she’d rather someone does it for her, but it can’t be him. He makes her all kind of uncomfortable. 

“I got this,” He says calmly, “You have a first aid kit?”

She points to the pantry below the sink and Dean retrieves it one handed, while the other one still holds her hurt finger beneath the running water. 

“Done this more often than I should have,” Dean’s voice is steady and comfortably calm, “Sammy.. Um.. my brother. He was a wild kid, always coming home with scraped knees and what not,” She can hear something else in his voice, something  _ fond _ . 

Y/N knows about Sam, knows that he’s Dean’s right hand. Wonder if he’s as ruthless as Dean is said to be. 

He turns the tab, shutting the water off and takes her hand out from under. Dean reaches out to pull at a sheet off the kitchen roll next to the sink and dabs at her wound with it. It’s still bleeding a little and she cringes at the sight. She can work on other people’s wounds without even blinking but her own? Nope.

Dean abandons the paper towel and takes something out from the first aid kit, “This will sting a little,” He smirks, looking at her as if to see if everything’s alright with her before he turns his gaze back to the wound and sprays something on it, and it fucking really stings. 

“Ow!” She breathes out, flinching and it’s the normal reaction to pull the hand away which Dean still has a tight grip around. 

“Shhhh, almost there,” He hushes her, his voice is low and fucking soothing. 

Afterwards, Dean lets go of her hand and searches for a band aid, tearing the wrapping paper off when he finds one and wraps it around her finger, “There you go,” He smiles, all bravado and fucking proud, and she can’t help but smile with him.

“Thank you,” Y/N mumbles, helping him clean up and throwing the towel into the trash before she proceeds to clear her work station at the counter. 

“You’re welcome,” He says but he doesn’t move, just stands there and watches her while she tries to ignore the green eyes of him that are trained on her. She tries fucking hard to ignore the breadth of his shoulder, that’s blocking her way, “Do I at least get to know your name?” 

Her heart races and she’s thinking about giving him a false name, but realizes that she didn’t use one to apply for this job. There are no traces of her in any database when she took on this job, so she should be alright. 

“Y/N.” She says shyly. 

“Dean.” He grins wide and genuine, showing his perfect white teeth. The crease around his eyes deepening and her heart is doing things it  _ definitely  _ shouldn’t.

Dean makes his way back to his seat. The grin’s still on his face, as if he’s proud of something, but she doesn’t know what. 

Y/N places the cutting board into the sink before she opens up beer for the guy who signaled it over to her and brought it over. Dean’s eyes are following her every move.

“Can I get you anything else?” She asks when she’s back in front of him. 

He lifts his glass between his thumb and middle finger, tapping at it with his index finger, “Another one?” It’s a question, she knows, and she doesn’t really get why he asks. Does he expect her to tell him to stop drinking? Should she? She doesn’t know, all she knows is that Dean Winchester could die of alcohol poisoning and she wouldn’t care. Would she? Yeah, no, she definitely wouldn’t.

She refills his glass quickly and proceeds to clean the things in the sink and Dean’s still fucking watching her. 

“So, what’s your story, Dean?” She asks when she turns back to face him. 

Taking her wash cloth, she wipes at the bar top. Her heart is pounding and she wonders if she gave anything away by asking things too soon. 

“Why do you wanna know my story?” 

“I don’t know, that’s what I’m here for, no? Men always tend to spill their stories and troubles to the barmaid. They know that their secrets are safe.” 

“Are they?” Dean raises his right eyebrow, the creases on his forehead showing but it’s a playful act, she knows, sees it in his eyes as they sparkle.

Y/N dries her hand on the apron around her waist before she braces her hands on the counter and leans forward. He watches her with amusement in his eyes. 

He leans closer too, and she notices something. 

_ Holy shit, freckles! _

Dean fucking Winchester has freckles, which, to her disappointment, doesn’t make him any less attractive. 

She leans even closer and her nose picks up the faint smell of his cologne that smells dark and somehow sweet at the same time, “Cross my heart,” She whispers, her nose grazing his temple. 

And when she parts from him, she notices him smiling at her. 

______________________________________________

Dean’s heart is pounding when she leans close. He hopes she doesn’t hear it. She’s so close he can breathe in her smell, and he really likes the faint perfume she’s wearing. 

Then he laughs, sharp, loud, and she smiles back. What a fucking pretty little thing. He really wonders how she ended up here. Wonders if he should give her another job in one the bars he owns in the city, but then thinks that he wouldn’t want anyone to stare at her the way he did tonight. His greediness wouldn’t allow that. He wants to have a place where he can unwind and this place has just gotten a whole lot better.

“Well, maybe another time, sweetheart,” Dean downs the rest of his drink in one go. He flips his wrist, knowing that technically he had to be on his way a half hour ago already, but thinks it was worth it to have stayed longer. 

“You’re not going to drive do you?” She asks when he stands up and fishes out a bundle of cash from his dress pants. 

Dean ignores her question because yeah, of course he’s going to drive. He doesn’t tell her that he’s got half the police force on his payroll though. 

He places $100 on the counter, sliding it over to her while he watches her face tightening and the crease between her eyebrows deepens. Thinks that it’s damn cute, wants to ease it away, preferably with a kiss. 

“Oh no, Ellen said not to take money from you,” She waves him off before she places her forefinger on the bill and slides it back. 

“It’s for you.” 

It’s true. Dean doubts that Ellen is paying her nearly enough to survive. And it’s all out of greed and kind of a self service really, because he wouldn’t want her to change jobs just because she doesn’t earn enough to get by.

“That’s too much. I barely did anything,” Her face starts to pick up color.

She blushes so fucking sweet. He has to give her that.

“Alright,” Dean says, putting the bill back into his pants and leaving his hands in his pockets. He knows when to stop and he has the feeling that she’d be mad if he presses further, “Guess, I’ll try again next time.” 

She laughs. A nice sound and she even wrinkles her nose.

It’s a laugh that is somehow contagious. Something Dean wants to hear more of. 

“Good luck with that,” She says with an easiness in her smile. 

“I’ll see you around, Y/N.” He winks and waves before he turns around and walks out with a strange feeling in his gut. 


	3. CH.03

The drive back is dragging and Dean feels that the alcohol in his bloodstream did nothing to help him clear his head or calm him down. If anything, it just leaves him more agitated. 

He dreads going back. Dreads having to face his responsibility because more than anything, he wants to shut himself in his room and not want to deal with all the problems he has to face lately.

Fergus MacLeod, the mayor of the city called in earlier today, said that he’d be at Sam’s law firm opening, told Dean that he hoped that there would be lots of women too. Crowley’s been a lover of the ladies, and Dean knows that he needs Crowley on his side. And Dean hates that, hates that he’s being played like a puppet, his strings held together by a mayor who has more skeletons in the closet than Dean does and yet, he can’t expose him because Dean and his men would go down with him.

Maybe that’s why he decided to go to the Roadhouse for a drink. But who is he kidding, because in reality he went in to see her. 

Now he’s on the way back when all he wants is to have stayed longer. 

He wishes he could turn back time, go back to sitting at the bar and actually talking to Y/N. It took him what? Almost two hours to summon his courage to talk to her? What the fuck is wrong with him? He doesn’t even know himself anymore. He’s usually much smoother than that.

Sure enough, as soon as he walks down the winding stairs to the library of the bunker, Sam’s already on his case. 

“Where have you been?” Sam asks when Dean steps off the last step, Dean’s one foot shy from touching the ground.

The bunker has been their HQ since the building that used to house their HQ blew up with their dad still in it. Sam had found this place, something to do with his love for books and shit. Dean doesn’t really understand, but it’s a good place, secluded, nobody around, nobody could know what’s going on in here. And it has some bedrooms for when they’re too lazy to go home. Which, lately, happens more often than not, Dean reckons. 

“Jeez, mom, I went and had a drink, alright,” Dean scoffs and sits down at the table, running his hand through his hair, ruffling it up in the process, “Didn’t know that I have to report my every fucking move to you.” 

“You went to the Roadhouse?” Sam raises an eyebrow in question as he shuffles through the stack of papers laid out before him and Dean looks at him, his eyebrows pulled together. “Called Ellen,” Sam shrugs. 

Dean breathes out.  _ I need a fucking drink _ , he thinks, but of course he knows that he can’t, he doesn’t want Sam to worry about his drinking habit too much. Sam would go all wise-ass on him, telling him that he should fucking talk more instead of using alcohol as his coping mechanism because, apparently, that is not healthy. Dean’s sick of hearing it. 

“Don’t get why you always go there. It’s an hour out! We have a couple of good bars here too, you know that right? Not that you should be drinking anyway, but you do know that you even own some of the bars?”

“Yeah, yeah,” Dean’s head hurts from rolling his eyes. 

“You took the Impala?”

“Of course I took my Baby,” Dean’s eyes narrow as he looks at Sam. He knows where this is going. Still, he can’t sit on his damn mouth and challenges his brother, “Why? Am I not allowed to take my own car and go have a fucking drink on my fucking own?”

Sam’s face softens up. He knows that Dean’s aggression is not really directed at him. Dean’s frustrated and Sam gets that, “We have a garage full of great bulletproof SUVs. Just saying,”

“Bulletproof.” Dean snorts.

“Yeah,” Sam nods, “You never know Dean. We don’t know about Lucifer. Maybe he’s butthurt and thinks that if he kills you, he can come back. For all I know, he could have a bullet with your name on it. No, I’m pretty sure he  _ has _ a bullet with your name on it!” 

“Bullets ain’t killing me, Sam.” Dean sighs. 

“Oh, just because you were lucky in Afghanistan you think you’d be lucky here?” Sam slams in fits on the table and Dean didn’t spare a glance, “Newsflash Dean, you’re not immortal!”

There’s footsteps coming in from the kitchen and Dean turns to look at the source, thankful for whoever is here with them because then they could maybe change the subject.

Cas appears with a mug of coffee in his hand. “Fucking finally the boss graces us with his presence.” 

Dean can’t help but roll his eyes again, and thinks that he really needs a fucking drink but instead of drinking, he thinks that he can maybe distract himself with work, “So, what’s on the schedule? When does the cargo arrive?”

He watches Cas blow at the coffee before the man takes a sip and swallows, “2AM, you’re in?” 

“Why shouldn’t I be in?” Dean asks, a little hurt, a lot offended.

“Well, last time you drank yourself into a coma.” Cas shrugs and Dean couldn’t help but notice Sam’s side eyes. 

Yeah, that might have been true. He’s under a lot of pressure since there’s been news that Lucifer now has his own army of people who could make Dean’s life a living hell. 

Lucifer was his Dad’s right hand man. Well, before Dean came back and took over, he was even running the fucking joint with Sam. He was butthurt when Dean came back and instead of going back to being just a right hand man, Lucifer decided to leave and set up something on his own. He’s since been manipulating and stealing from Dean and Dean can’t say that he’s fucking thrilled about that.

“That was one fucking time, Cas!” Dean huffs, rubbing over his scruff and darts his tongue out to wet his lips, “2AM. I’m coming with you.”

______________________________________________

Ellen takes the cash out of the register and Y/N notices her doing that very thing a couple of times during the night. Ellen, apparently, still has some trust issues but can Y/N really blame her? 

No, she really can’t. She wouldn’t trust someone who’s only been working here for four days with the money, too. She wonders what made Jo leave, thinks that it maybe has something to do with the people who frequented the bar. 

Although Y/N’s only been here for four days, she’s been grabbed and groped by so many greasy fingers that she really had to teach someone a lesson for the others to stop making the same mistake. She thought that Ellen would be angry at her for causing a scene with blood spattered on the dirty wooden floor, and a patron suffering from a broken jaw, but Ellen just laughed it off and placed her hand on Y/N’s shoulder, “You’re doing great.” She said and Y/N can’t say that she wasn’t proud to hear that.

_ Yeah _ , she thinks,  _ I can manage here _ . Besides, there are some really great guys and she gets so much information on the business that the Winchesters are running, even if it’s from hearsay. 

*

It’s almost 4AM and the Roadhouse is empty with only Ash who’s laying passed out on the pool table. The sight’s not unusual, though. He’s done that four nights in a row now and Y/N thinks that it might be his MO.  _ I’ll wake him up when I’m finished _ , she thinks and continues to fill the bucket to sweep the floor. 

She’s in the middle of sweeping in the corner of the bar — where it strangely stinks of piss — when she hears the door opening and closing. She stops to sweep mid-motion and tilts her head to the door, her mind already thinking about how she could fend off the attacker, because, let’s be real, nothing good happens after 4AM, right? The broom in her hand can be a deadly weapon and she grips onto it a little tighter.

Breathing out a relief, she smiles when she sees that she doesn’t really have to fend for her life. “We’re closed.” She says simply.

Dean runs his hand through his hair and sighs, he rubs over his jaw and opens his mouth to say something but he doesn’t. Instead, he looks around and walks behind the bar to retrieve a bottle of whiskey out of the pantry. She didn’t even know Ellen kept any whiskey there.

Dean takes a tumbler from the top shelf and looks back at her, “I just need a drink.” 

Y/N stops sweeping and looks at him puzzled. She watches as he pours himself a finger and tips the glass back, downing the shot in one go. He shakes his head at the burn and sets the glass down to fill it some more.

She abandons the cleaning, takes a couple of steps towards the bar and Dean raises his eyebrows in question when she approaches. He grins suddenly, bright and wide, and turns around to get another glass, “Come on, drink with me.” 

“I’m working,” She says and is a little embarrassed at how it might have sounded. But the fact is, that she never drinks when she’s working, and she isn’t really keen on changing that, even if she’s undercover. 

Dean chuckles lightly, “You’re really a good girl, aren’t you?” He says with a smirk, and she doesn’t know if he’s making fun of her but the look he gives her doesn’t seem like he’s joking. It’s more like some kind of statement. A fact. And also, it’s true. 

He waits for her signal, the bottle tipped to the glass, waiting to somehow hear an  _ ‘okay’ _ before he would pour it but he doesn’t press any further. The grin is still on his face, like he knows that she’ll say  _ ‘yes’ _ and she hates him for knowing it. Hates, how he can read her mind.

Dean winks at her before he pours it and she takes the glass as he laughs. It’s loud, sharp, his deep voice drumming in the silence of the bar. He walks out from behind the counter and sits on the bar stool. The same one he sat in earlier.

“Cheers,” He says and clinked his glass to hers.

“Cheers,” She echoes him, and takes a sip of the brown liquid, shakes her head and squints her eyes through the burn which made Dean laugh out loud. 

“I’m sorry,” Dean says then, “For bursting in. Didn’t know where else I should go, and I needed a drink.” 

She hops from the stool and takes another sip before she walks back to her broom, “That’s alright. I just need to finish so I can go home. Guess Ellen doesn’t mind you’re here?” 

“Well, I don’t know,” Dean shrugs, stands up and takes off his jacket, “Where is she anyway?”

“Counting money in the back. Told me to close up.” 

______________________________________________

They had been stood up. Cas and him were waiting but the driver never arrived. Dean guesses that something has happened. Maybe Lucifer got wind. Someone has got some fucking explaining to do, because Dean’s sure that there’s a fucking rat amongst his men. And he hates that, hates being played. He’s the one who does the playing, and it should never be the other way around. 

He let Cas track the vehicle with GPS and thought that he needed a goddamn drink to deal with all this. 

Before Dean even knew where he’s going, he was driving towards the Roadhouse and he doesn’t even know if it was still open, doesn’t know if she’d still be there, but he just needs fucking  _ something _ to get him over the bad night. Something to calm his fucking nerves.

He ignored the  _ Closed _ sign on the door, was damn happy that the door was still unlocked and when he stepped in, he thought that he made a mistake but he couldn’t back out now. She’d already seen him. So, forward he went. Even though he knew that he was making a fool out of himself.

Dean ignored her at first, ignored the beating of his heart when he heard her voice and went straight for the pantry. 

And now he’s here, taking off his jacket and tie and rolling back his sleeves because he’s holding her back from work and the least he can do is lending her a hand.

She’s a good girl, he can see. Wonders if she’s ever done anything illegal, wonders if she’d be appalled knowing he’s done something illegal — still does, every fucking day. And he really wonders how a good fucking girl ends up here at the Roadhouse. 

He walks over to her, holding a hand out and she’s reluctant at first but then hands the broom over to him with a shy smile on her face. 

“Where were you? That corner there?” Dean is pointing his chin to a corner and walks over, the stench of piss penetrates his nostrils the closer he gets, “Woah, tell Ellen to do something about it. Build another fucking toilet or something!” 

He hears her giggle behind him as he scrubs away at the floor, thinking that it’s a fucking beautiful sound. 

______________________________________________

Y/N wonders why Dean does it. A man with his power, with his money, is cleaning off piss from the floor of a dingy bar. She can’t help but giggle at the image in front of her. 

Standing back, she watches, watches his muscled backside moving, watches the tense in his forearm. Watches the firm ass in his dress pants, and she feels blood rushing up to her cheeks. 

_ Fuck _ . She should not be thinking that about someone she’s paid to get close to. Because after all, that’s the truth and her real job. She’s paid to find out more about him. And somehow, she thinks, she might find out more about Dean than she sets herself out to. If he’d let her, that is. But right now, she thinks that she’s doing quite alright.

When Dean finishes, his face beams with pride. “So, can we get back to that drink?” He asks, when she takes the bucket from him and rolls it towards the sink attached to the bar. 

She lifts it up and empties the dirty water into it while Dean sits back on his bar stool and watches her with some kind of admiration. Why? Did he really think that she couldn’t lift a fucking bucket of water? It’s not that hard. She went through worse in training. 

Y/N wipes at the counter afterwards, sipping away at her drink while Dean pours himself another. It’s his..what? Fifth? Sixth? Not that she’s counting or anything, but he should really not be doing any driving in the near future. 

When she finishes wiping down the counter top, she washes her hand, and she steps back behind the counter opposite of Dean. 

“You should really drink up so I can go home and shower the stink of the night off me,” She’s feeling a bit woozy in the head, the whiskey clearly fucked up her brain because how else could she explain what she just said. She’s normally not the one to reveal too much, but also she’s usually not the one who drinks, so there’s that. Normally she’d have a beer or a glass of wine in the span of an hour or so, her body can take that, but not whiskey. She’s not made for drinking too much alcohol, she guesses. 

“Now that’s an image that I’ll never get out of my head,” He says easy, his eyes looking straight at her and there’s a smirk. 

_ He teases her _ , she thinks,  _ right?  _

“I take it, it’s my cue to go,” He clears his throat, tips the glass to his lips and throws his head back. His Adam's apple bobbing as he swallows, and she bites down on her bottom lip, thinks how nice his throat looks. 

_ Ugh _ .

“I’m sorry but I’m really tired,” She apologizes and Dean waves her off.

“It’s my fault. I kept you from going home. So,” He says, putting his jacket back on, “Say, do you want to wake up Ash or shall I?” 

“Shit, Ash.” 

“Let me,” Dean smiles, walking back behind the bar and takes a pint from the stack, fills it at the tap with cold water. He sticks his tongue out, resting it at the corner of his lips while he laughs to himself and she thinks that it’s fucking cute, even though she should not be thinking that. At all.

Dean winks before he walks over to the pool table, “Fire! Fire!” Dean yells, his voice rough and loud as he empties the pint on Ash’s face, making the other man jolt up with a scream. 

They were both laughing and Dean tips his head back, his hand hugging his belly. 

“What the fuck, Dean!” Ash is heard saying as he hops off the table, “Y/N! You let him do that to me? Really? And I really liked you!”

“I’m sorry!” She says, still laughing hard. 

Dean grabs Ash around his shoulders and walks him to the back of the bar, where Ash has a room. “Let’s get you to bed, buddy. And hey, I need you to get back to Cas as soon as you’re sober, alright?” Dean winks at her before setting the glass back on the counter and continues to walk Ash to the back door. “Good night!” He yells before Ash mumbled some curse words and Dean returns back to the bar counter. 

So, Ash is working for him too? She wonders what he’s doing. She should be able to find a night where Ash’s passed out so she could sneak into his room. 

Dean walks to the exit and holds the door open, looking back at her, “You coming?” 

“What.. oh, yeah, yeah.” She loses her apron, grabs her bag from under the sink, switches off the light at the main switch and hurries to Dean.

He steps aside to let her lock up. 

“I’ll walk you to the car,” He says and she can see that Dean has parked right at the front of the bar while she parked it way in the back. 

She finds it a little amusing that he thinks that she needs to be protected. Wonders, what he would think if he knew who she really was.

“You’re not going to drive, are you?” She asks as they arrive at her car, and she can’t believe why she asked, why she even cares.

“I’m fine, don’t worry about that.” He’s grinning, amused that she’s worried. 

“I mean, I could drive you, just tell me where.” 

Dean huffs out a laugh, “If I tell you where I live, I’d have to kill you.” 

“Oh.” 

He flinches, thinking she didn’t get the joke but she did. She’s just bummed that he won’t let her find out where he really lives because that would make her stay here so much shorter, it would be over so quick and she partly doesn’t really know if she’d want that. 

“I’m joking, it’s a joke, you know… if I tell you I have to kill you? You get it?” He tries to explain and she laughs, because yeah, she has to, hopes he doesn’t notice that it’s somewhat fake. 

“Anyway, thanks.” She says and unlocks her car.

Dean’s still standing there. Unmoved. It’s as if he wants to say something. She waits but when Dean doesn’t make an effort of saying anything, she opens the door to her car. 

“Y/N?” 

“Yeah?” She has to hold back her grin. 

“Sam, my brother, is having a party. He’s opening his own law firm and I don’t even know if you have dresses or if you’d be interested but,” Y/N can see him taking a deep breath, as if it’s really hard for him to say those things, “I was wondering if you would want to come?”

“Uh.. I don’t know? Um...yeah, why not?” 

“Great,” He smiles so bright and wide and his chest heaves, as he stands just a little straighter, “I’ll let you know the details as soon as he figures it out.” 

“Like, do I really need to wear a dress?” She asks, because she hasn’t worn a dress in years and she doesn’t even know if the ones she has would still fit her. 

“Don’t worry about that,” He grins and it’s that cocky grin again. Something she can’t really read. It’s as if he’s planning something but she doesn’t quite know what, “Right, I don’t wanna hold you up from your shower.”

Dean steps back, and Y/N nods as she gets into the car. He waits for her to settle, his hand on the door of her car. 

“I just wanna add that you’ve brightened up my night, Y/N. Thanks for that.” There’s a smile on the corner of his lips when he closes the car door for her.


	4. CH.04

_ Dean crouched down beside Milligan and saw the bullet wound in Milligan’s abdomen. There’s one on Milligan’s thigh too, and all Dean could think about in his state of shock and daze was, that he has got to fucking stop the bleeding somehow.  _

_ “Milligan!” Dean shouted out, tapping on Milligan’s cheek for the other man to look at him. “Look at me! Stay with me, alright? It’s not that bad. You’ll be fine.”  _

_ He knew that Milligan’s not going to be fine but for all Dean knew, he has got to keep that man alive and let him have the hope that he’s going to be fucking fine. _

_ “Winchester, fuck. It fucking hurts, man!” _

_ “It’s okay, you’re going to be alright, it doesn’t even look that bad,” Dean said, loud and clear, so that Milligan would hear him over the sound of gunfire. _

_ Dean placed Milligan’s own hand on his abdomen and pressed down, applying pressure to the wound. “I need you to hold your hand down like this, alright?” _

_ “Fuck!” Milligan winced. _

_ Dean fished out a tourniquet from the first aid kit he grabbed from the Humvee before he made his way out here, and secured it around Milligan’s thigh, making Milligan scream out in pain. _

_ “Listen to me, Milligan, stay with me, alright?” _

_ “Yeah,” Milligan’s voice was faint now. _

_ “Hey, hey,” Dean grinned, “what you wanna do when you get home, huh? You wanna eat something nice?” He tried to distract Milligan from the pain. _

_ “Yeah, a fucking burger, man.” _

_ “Good, good.” Dean smiled and agreed with Milligan, “Burger sounds delicious right now.” _

_ “Yeah,” Milligan swallowed the saliva that built up in his mouth just at the thought of a burger. “Do you have a cigarette?”  _

_ “No, Milligan, but maybe the squad leader has one. Let me get you over to him, alright?” Dean lifted Milligan up so that he was sitting, meanwhile they’re still dodging every fucking bullet. “I want you to place your hand around my shoulder and hold on, okay? When I say ‘go’, you hold on tight.”  _

_ “Yeah,” _

_ Dean swooped Milligan up and on ‘go’, he carried Milligan over to the Humvee. Running in zick-zacks as not to fucking get shot at. _

*

Dean wakes up when he feels the vibration of his phone that was tucked in his pant pockets and he rubs over his face a couple of times, wondering where the fuck he was until he remembers. 

He didn’t even have time to get out of his clothes last night, passed out cold on the uncomfortable couch that’s way too tiny for his frame. He makes a mental note to maybe get a new, more comfortable one, but chuckles because who is he kidding. He probably won’t even remember it anymore come nightfall.

Sitting up, Dean fishes out the phone from his pocket to take the call. His eyes catch the numbers of the clock on the wall before he looks over the caller ID. It’s fucking 7.34AM. He doesn’t think that he’s had more than three hours of sleep.

“Cas,” He whispers into the phone, his voice rough from sleep. 

“Good morning, princess. You had a good night?” 

“What do you want?” He’s annoyed because that’s just what Cas does. Always circling around the fucking point instead of getting down to business. 

“Ash called. We’ve located the truck.” 

“Good, get people on it. As soon as you have the driver, give me a call.” Dean hangs up, and thinks about leaning back, maybe even lying down again, to catch up on more sleep, but he feels that his body is awake, feels the restlessness that’s creeping up his spine. Instead of taking a nap, he gets up and walks towards the bathroom. He needs a shower to wash away the rest fatigue that hangs heavy on his shoulders.

______________________________________________

Y/N wakes to vibrations of her phone on the nightstand. Blindly, she reaches for it and blinks a couple of times. Still, she leaves her eyes closed because there’s no way she can open them right now. They burn and sting. Those night shifts are clearly starting to take a toll on her and her body has a hard time adjusting to it.

She thinks back to last night, how Dean was nervous about asking her out and she can’t help but grin, thinking that it was actually kind of cute. 

When she’s ready to open her eyes to look at her phone, she sees a couple of texts from Linda, who she has saved as  _ Mom  _ on her phone. 

_ “Is everything alright?”  _

_ “Hey, sweetie, answer me.” _

_ “I’m really getting worried here.”  _

And the last one...

_ “I swear, if I don’t hear anything I’ll send someone around and we’re blowing this whole thing off!” _

Y/N thumbs over the screen lazily, yawning when she types a text in reply. 

“Geez, calm down, mom. Finally met my target. Everything’s fine. Now wait until I get back to you.” 

She sends it out and deletes the conversation. 

Better safe than sorry. 

*

When she gets to the Roadhouse, Ellen’s already in her office and curses at her computer. 

Y/N steps up behind her new boss, “You need help?” 

“This fucking program doesn’t work.” Ellen breathes out, before smashing her hand against the side of the computer monitor and Y/N had to suppress her laugh.

“Doesn’t help if you do that, you know that, right?” 

“Yeah, yeah.”

“Here, let me,” Y/N bends down a little and takes over the mouse. It’s an old book keeping program, nothing fancy. She had a rundown on different programs during training and this was one of them. 

Ellen rolls herself onto the side in her office chair to make more room for Y/N, and watches her typing in some codes and clicking on some buttons. Watch her take over the inventory notes and types in numbers.  _ It’s really simple _ , Y/N thinks. The Roadhouse is a simple bar, there’s only her on the payroll. The books still need to be made, but that’s not rocket science. 

“Done.” She says after a while and Ellen looks at her surprised, mouth hanging agape, which really does make the older woman look comical. 

“You amaze me, girl,” Ellen smiles, wide and proud, “Glad that I didn’t have to call Ash for it. He’d want to change to a fancy program and what not.”

“Anytime, Ellen.” Y/N stands up, returning Ellen’s smile.

“Why are you here? Your shift doesn’t start for another hour.” 

“I just like to be on time.” She says, “Is Ash in?” 

“Yeah, he’s holed up in his room.” Ellen’s gaze is back on the screen as she takes in the numbers Y/N just typed in.

“Ok, I’ll go out and prepare the tables and chill the drinks,” She calls back to her boss as she walks out the door. Ellen’s too engrossed in her computer to answer her.

So, Ash is in, she’s gotta find a way to get into the room when he’s out. Or drunk. Both things at the same time would be perfect. 

______________________________________________

“Why are we here again?” Sam twists in his seat to be able to look at Dean as they are driving out to the Roadhouse.

“Ash.” Dean answers short, his voice low.

“You sure? Because normally Ash comes to us,” Sam’s one eyebrow climbs up his forehead, as if he doesn’t believe Dean.

“Yeah, I wanna see what he’s got.” 

It’s a lie. Dean knows where the truck is. Cas’ got his men there since Ash called but the driver is nowhere to be found. They manage to find their own driver though, knocked unconscious some 20 miles north. He can be glad that the driver’s not dead. 

It’s not that Dean knows the driver very well. In fact, he doesn’t know about any of them at all, but he considers them family nonetheless. Losing one of his men is like losing family, and Dean doesn’t entirely like the idea of losing  _ any  _ people at all.

Dean also knows that Sam can read him like a book, and Sam most certainly knows that Cas is already on the case.

“Yeah, right.” Sam scoffs but he doesn’t say more, just leans back and closes his eyes, and Dean’s thankful for that. 

*

The Roadhouse is still closed. At least the sign says so, but as Dean drives into the parking lot, he spots her car. 

It is strange how his heart thumbs in his chest. It’s a weird feeling, something unfamiliar. He can’t really say that he likes it, though. But he doesn’t particularly hate it, either.

The music from the jukebox spills out as they open the door to the bar, and Dean stops mid-walk when he sees her, making Sam bump right into his back but Dean doesn’t budge. Instead, he freezes. It’s like the nerves that connect his brain to his limbs have a short circuit. 

Y/N’s singing and dancing as she refills the fridge behind the counter with new bottles of beer. Her hair is up in a ponytail, her shirt today white and a little see through because Dean can clearly see her bra through the shirt.

She stops in her tracks when she notices them, and Dean can see that she’s already blushing. He kind of hates how much her blushing affects him. Almost like she’s a shy deer, his prey, and he’s the hunter who would just tease around to see her blush but then — then he would drive his fangs into her, he would feast on her, make her scream and blush even more, because he can’t get over how adorable she looks when her cheeks are all pink and flushed.

“We’re closed.” She says but doesn’t stop doing what she does, doesn’t really even look up, and Dean knows that she’s embarrassed, ashamed to meet his eyes. He wonders why that is.

“Just here to see Ash. You’re new?” Sam finds a way around Dean and walks towards the bar, and Dean’s out of his trance, following Sam.

“Yeah, just started a couple of days ago.” Y/N says, grins a little at Sam but wouldn’t let them interrupt her from her work.

“Ah,” Sam looks at Dean, a fucking stupid grin on his face. 

_ What a fucking idiot,  _ Dean thinks.

“Shut up.” Dean mutters under his breath and Sam shrugs, the grin still tugging at the corner of his lips.

“You must be Sam,” She pushes the cooling drawer close with a swing of her hips and turns to face them. Dean could see Sam raising an eyebrow.

“Yeah,” Dean says, “Sam, this is Y/N.” He thought that introducing them is the least he could do.

Sam smiles at her and she’s blushing again. Dean can’t help but feel a bit jealous. 

“So, I heard you’re opening your own law firm? That’s a great achievement. Congratulations!” She bends down and grabs another handful of bottles from the crate.

“Uh..thanks?” Sam is confused, Dean can see it. 

“I can’t wait for the opening.” She then smiles brightly before she turns around to place the bottles into the mini fridge behind the counter. 

She has her back to them, can’t possibly see how Sam looks at Dean with a puzzled expression on his face.

Sam clears his throat then, “Alright, I’ll go see where Ash is.” and walks to the door at the back.

Dean pauses at the counter, letting Sam slip out. He watches her until she looks at him, “You okay?”

Y/N raises her eyebrows and huffs out a breath, “Yeah, why shouldn’t I be?”

_ Yeah, why shouldn’t she be _ , Dean thinks to himself. Thinks, that he’s a fucking idiot, too.

“Right, okay. Good.” He turns away from her, doesn’t really know where to look or where to go, thinking about taking off, why did he think coming here was a good idea?

Just when Dean is about to will his feet to take a step, she says something, making him freeze, “Did you sleep alright?” There’s a small smile on her face. Something that makes him relax. She continues, “Not hungover?”

He lets out a breath and turns back to her, smiling a little because, maybe? Maybe he’s not a fucking idiot after all. “Yeah,” He runs a hand through his hair, nervous all of a sudden, “No, I felt fine this morning.” 

It’s, of course, a lie.

She nods, and he walks towards the back door where Sam disappeared through. He holds the door open before he turns around again, “Bye, Y/N.”

Dean shakes his head as the door closes.

Yeah, he definitely is a fucking idiot.

He looks up again to see Sam leaning against the wall, his brother's arms are crossed over his chest. “How did she know about the opening?”

“I invited her.”

“Oh, so we just invite everyone that crosses our path now?” 

Dean shushed Sam grumpily, “Calm the fuck down, alright? I invited her because Crowley expects a lot of women and we don’t exactly know a lot of them unless we pay them, do we?”

He waits for the words to set in Sam’s mind. He’s right, and Sam knows it. 

“Whatever,” Sam scoffs, and turns around to make his way to Ash’s room. Before he knocks, Sam turns to Dean, “You ran a check on her?”

“She’s good, Sam. Trust me.”

*

They’re standing in the abandoned warehouse. Cas’ is by Dean’s side.

“So, Zachariah,” Dean snickers, “Can I call you Zach, yeah?” He takes a step closer to Zach who looks up at Dean, his face bruised, his eyes beaten black. Cas’ work, Dean knows. When it comes to thieves, Cas has no patience whatsoever.

“A little birdie told me that you stole from me,” Dean smiles a little, his teeth are sharp, his tongue wetting his lips, “How much did he get away with, Cas?” 

“Five.” Cas answers dryly, playing along.

“Five?” Dean lifts an eyebrow at Cas. “Are you telling me we’re arguing here about five fucking pounds of meth?” 

Dean knows that he wouldn’t care less about five pounds. Wouldn’t even get out here into the dirty and smelly neighborhood because some scumbag thinks that five pounds of meth is worth his fucking time. No, he’d only send his people, but  _ this _ — this is much bigger than that.

“Five tons, Dean,” Cas says, playing his role in the charade, and rolls his eyes. And Dean registered that, thinking that the eye rolling is entirely Cas and not the part of the good cop he’s playing, “And two cases of bottled Opium. Pure. Not to add the twelve crates of brand new AK-47’s.”

“Oh, now we’re talking,” Dean snickers, and lowers himself down a little, squatting on his tiptoes to look at Zach who’s blood from his nose drops to the floor. Dean’s careful not to get any blood on his shoes or his suit.

Dean’s really not dumb, he just acts like it. Sometimes you need to give them a little show. He knows that Zach has stolen the whole damn truck, they only found him because of the tracking device he has on each and every one of his vehicles.

“So, Zach,” Dean looks at him and holds out his hand, the barrel of Dean’s gun is placed below Zach’s chin. He lifts it up so Zach would look him in the eye, “Who told you to do it.” 

Zach spits blood onto the floor, missing Dean’s shoes by a mere inch and Dean grits his teeth, “Nobody, I did it myself.” Zach says, his voice strained, vocal chords hurting.

“Ah, so you just woke up one day and thought, hey, I’m too lazy to cook my own meth, why don’t I just steal from someone who wouldn’t miss it, eh?”

Zach’s lips are sealed.

“Look Zach, normally, I would be more patient. Maybe strip you of your limbs first, starting with your nails, then maybe your eyelids…” 

It’s a lie. Dean  _ always  _ starts with the eyelids first. Because he wants the people to see what he’s doing to them. 

“…I’d do it until you tell me who gave you the fucking order, but you know what? I’m really not in a good mood tonight.”

Not a word of a lie. Dean hasn’t been in a good mood because he’d rather be anywhere else but here. 

“You’d have to kill me, I won’t say shit!” Zach spits out more blood, some droplets made it on Dean’s shoe and Dean’s not particularly amused by that.

He can’t believe that someone would rather die for Lucifer. They really must be brain dead. Or like, brainwashed.

His phone buzzes in his pocket and he takes it out. Answering on the fourth ring. 

“What?!” He barks into the phone, waiting for the other party to answer.

“It’s a decoy. They’re testing us. Ash deciphered a code. It’s a fucking test run, Dean!” Sam sounds strangely calm over the phone. “They just want to see how long it’d take us.”

Dean pockets his phone away without a goodbye and turns to look at Cas. “Cas, I’m leaving. I got no fucking time for this shit.”

“Oh, come on! You’re kidding me!” Cas says, “What do you want me to do, Dean?”

Dean walks towards Zach again and before Cas could even blink, Dean places a bullet in Zach’s head, “There. Done.” He shrugs, placing the gun back in its holster. 

“Great. Well done, Dean. Now we don’t know who he’s working for.”

Cas is annoyed, Dean can tell.

Dean turns to walk away, the heel of his shoes clicking on the cement floor. “Sam said it’s a decoy, Cas. They just wanted to see if they could get away with it and if they could, they wanted to see how long it would take us to be on their case. They’re planning something,” Dean lifts a hand in a wave, turning around one last time before he breaks for a run, “Oh, and you know, get Zach’s body out of here, that’d be great!” 

Dean doesn’t know where he is rushing to. He just knows that he needs a fucking drink.


	5. CH.05

_ “Winchester! You got a cigarette?”  _ Milligan’s voice was clear in his ear.  _ “Please, I need one.” _

_ “No, man.” Dean shook his head. “But hold on, Milligan. You’re going to be alright. We will get you out of here.” _

_ * _

Dean blinks. 

He’s back. 

He’s still driving. A single tear streaks down his face and he jerks himself more awake from his daydream. His hand comes up to brush the tear away from his cheek.

Dean thinks about calling Charlie as he drives towards the bunker. He needs to make a pitstop and clean himself from the dirt of having killed a man, and needs to shower off the guilt. It usually doesn’t work. It never did. But at least there will be no blood of a dead man on any part of him or on his clothes left.

When he kills people, he doesn’t think about them as humans. He can’t let himself go there. Dean can’t say that he enjoys it either though, can’t say that he’s not dying a little on the inside every time he takes out someone. Even if they are the lowest sort of scumbags.

He never could take it lightly. 

Not when he was at war, where killing enemies was demanded from him.

Not now, when he does it to protect his business, his family, his pride.

He’ll never get used to it and honestly, he’d rather not do the dirty work but also he doesn’t want anyone to have to bear the burden. At least not someone he’s close to, like Cas or Sam. Cas did kill people for him, but mostly it was also for Cas himself. But Sam? Nah, Dean would rather die than let Sammy do that kind of dirty work. 

Sometimes, when he’s plagued by subsequent nightmares and has a hard time to even take his mind off them in the times he’s awake, Dean often finds himself asking if this was all worth it. If the life he chose to live was worth the effort, worth the sleepless nights, worth the sacrifices, the blood, the sweat and the tears.

But the answer was always  _ yes _ . Because Sam’s in it. Because Sam’s gonna open up a law firm. Because Sam’s going to get out of this life. Because Sammy deserves everything good, even if it meant that Dean has to give everything he has in order for Sam to be happy. And Dean is ready to do that for Sammy, always had, always will.

And who knows? Maybe, if Dean’s lucky, his whole plan will work out after all.

He didn’t tell Sam yet — in fact, he didn’t tell anyone about his plan. Dean sometimes wishes for nothing more than to go legal. Maybe go into shipping and trading. Not narcotic substances, not illegal arms. Legal things, like a normal person, a normal business owner of a fucking family business. Do something he doesn’t have to break the law for. It’s just a dream, though. He knows that there’s no escape from reality. Not for someone in his position. Because who would he be then? They’d think that he’s weak. A wimp. A goddamn failure. Nobody walks out of here, especially not after what his father went through to keep the organization going and growing.

Before Dean went to Afghanistan, he actually quite enjoyed the life he had. Fast cars, frisky women, being respected. He had everything. He was cocky and narcissistic back then, thought that he could have it all and so much more. He signed up to be deployed because he thought that he has got something to prove. Proving to himself that nothing could bring him down. Proving to all the others, that he can come back unscattered and reign over them. He thought that once he’s back, people would respect him more because back then, they thought that he would never be able to take over. 

Life changed drastically after a couple of days at COP Keating. He was being the one to get shot at and not the other way around. He was the one to take orders and not the other way around. He didn’t get along with his mates, didn’t want to join in and distanced himself. He never really had any friends because they all thought that he was stuck up. They weren’t really wrong, he guesses. 

Dean never thought he’d get to come back with all his limbs still attached to him — let alone coming back alive.

War changed him. Changed his view of life and he often asked himself what he did it for, sometimes wished that he was the one dead and not his friends. But when he got out of the plane as they arrived back, he saw Sam waiting with a bright smile on his face and waving at him, Dean knew that he did it all for Sam. And yes, it was all worth it. Sam wailed like a baby when the President placed the medal around his neck, which Dean still thinks that he didn’t deserve at all. He just did his duty, really. 

So yeah, this life sucks you in and will spit you out when you’re dead. Sometimes the dead part happens sooner rather than later. You never know. 

Dean knows that he probably — most definitely — can’t win in this life. Maybe in the next. 

He dials Charlie’s number and waits.

Charlie picks up at the second ring. 

“Hey, my favorite Winchester,” She says and Dean smiles at the sound of Charlie’s voice. She’s always so cheerful.

“I bet you say that to Sammy, too.” Dean chuckles lightly.

“Me? Naaaah,” Charlie laughs now, loud and bright.

“I don’t believe you,” 

“Yeah, yeah. You saw it?” She’s changing the subject quickly, knowing that Dean called her up to ask about the things he asked her to pick up for him.

“I haven’t been to the bunker yet. Just wanna ask if you did get it.”

“Got everything. How did you get the shoe size?” 

“Ash,” Dean breathes out.

“Oh my god, I don’t even wanna know,” Charlie groans.

“Nope, I don’t wanna know either.” Dean feels second hand embarrassment when he thinks of it. Knowing Ash, he probably didn’t ask for it smoothly.

“Anyway, it’s in the bunker. Let me know if it fits.”

“I will. Thanks, Charlie.”

“You’re welcome, big guy.”

Dean hangs up and pushes his phone back into his pants pocket. He flips his wrist to be able to look at his watch. It’s not yet 10PM. If he hurries, he could make it there before her shift ends.

______________________________________________

Y/N taps a beer when strong hands grab at her arm and pull her away swiftly, but the pressure on her arm is still gentle, which is weird and she didn’t spill a single drop.

She turns to look who it is, thinks about throwing the beer in the face of whoever thought that pulling her away from her work would be such a good idea when she can club them over the head with a full pint.

Her eyes meet a chest. She looks up from the neat dress shirt, trails her eyes past the scruff, almost freezes at the plump lips that’s widened by a smirk, but she wills herself to go on because she has a great idea who it is. Her eyes meet his green ones and the crinkles around them are deep and — not going to lie — mesmerizing.

“Hi,” It rumbles from his chest and she could literally feel the bass of his voice vibrating in her bones. It was loud in the bar but she could hear him clearly.

“Hi,” Y/N says, shy all of a sudden. Thinks that she’s blushing, but how could she not.

He leans down, the tip of his nose brushes against her temple and it makes the hair on the back of her neck stand up while goosebumps spread on her arm. “Think you can take a break?”

She looks at the line of people surrounding the bar, shakes her head no, “I don’t think so,”

Dean chuckles before he produces a bag which he probably had hidden behind his back. Y/N doesn’t know, but she can’t explain how a bag materializes in front of him. “Don’t worry, me and Ash will take over. You go back and see if this is alright.”

“What?”

“You remember the opening party?” He raises an eyebrow, and she sees the doubt in his eyes.

She pretends to think hard, the creases on her forehead deepening. She let the clock tick, thinks of stretching the moment out, just for good measure, before she answers. “Yeah?”

He relaxes, and she thinks it’s funny how she could wind him up.

“It’s in two days. Got you something.”

“You did what? I didn’t even ask Ellen yet if I could get the night off,” Y/N begins to say, because it’s true. She didn’t expect it to be so soon. He just asked her what? Two days ago? And said that they’re still figuring out the date?

“Don’t worry about that. I’ll talk to Ellen.” He’s still holding out the bag for her to take. 

She looks at the people who are still waiting on being served. “But—”

“—Jesus, Y/N, just go, alright? I asked Ash. You can use his room.” He points his chin towards the back door and she sees Ash walking behind the bar too now, with a stupid grin on his face. 

“Oh, okay.” Y/N nods, and places the pint onto the counter top before taking the bag from Dean’s hand. Their fingers brush for a brief moment and there’s a flutter in her chest.

Damn her chest. It has no business to be fluttering right now.

She searches for Dean’s eyes before she goes, as if she needs reassurance. He winks at her as he takes off his suit jacket, folding the sleeves of his dress shirt back. “Go! Trust us. You can take your time.” 

Y/N can already see Ash taking orders before she nods again and slips through the door.

*

Y/N closes the door to Ash’s room. Locking it up, just in case. She takes a look around before she drops the bag on the floor and walks over to Ash’s laptop. She can’t make it too obvious, doesn’t want to try to type in a password, fearing Ash has some tracking device on his laptop and would notice someone logging in when he’s not around. 

She opts to take out her phone instead, taking pictures of Ash’s room, especially his desk, and of the many scribbles of loose sheets of paper scattered around. That way she won’t be gone too long too, and she won’t raise any suspicions. It’s not her job to decipher or to dig too deep anyway, they have great people in the bureau. Her job is to deliver new intel while their job is to dig deeper from the bits and pieces she sends them.

After she’s done her other ‘work’, she takes the bag and peeks in. There are two more bags in the big one and she reaches for the first one. She takes it out and smiles when she sees what it is. 

Y/N takes the item out and holds it up in front of her. It’s a red sleeveless couture cocktail dress, with mesh worked into it, a little see through but covered by red flower patterns. She holds it to her chest, and walks to the mirror, lets her hand skim over the fabric. She’s never seen a dress more beautiful and that’s not even a lie.

It’s red. Red. Y/N never wore red. Doesn’t think that red suits her at all. Red is for someone who likes to make a bold statement. Someone who likes to be noticed and seen and if anything, she’s the contrary. In fact, she doesn’t own a piece of clothing in red. She always opted for black, grey, white or navy, something not eye catching. She never felt comfortable being the center of attention.

She smiles to herself through the mirror because she never knew that red would suit her. Nonetheless, she can’t help but wonder how expensive the dress must be. She probably wouldn’t be able to afford it. What the fuck was Dean thinking? She can’t possibly take the dress. Can’t possibly wear it because it’s out of her fucking league. 

There’s a note fluttering to the floor. It probably was laid out on the dress and she missed it as she took it out.

Y/N bends down to pick it up. 

_ “I hope it fits. I thought red would look great on you. There are some shoes at the bottom of the bag. If you feel confident enough you could let me see? If not, it’s okay too. — Dean” _

She bites on her bottom lip before they spread into a grin. 

Y/N shimmies herself out of her jeans and takes off her shirt. The bra too, since it’s see through. She needs to find some nude strapless bra, makes a mental note to go shopping tomorrow before she meets with Linda. 

She’s glad she shaved her legs today, that would have been really embarrassing. Not that she should care. Or should she?

She really doesn’t know but decides not to dwell on that super weird feeling in her guts. Instead, she laughs to herself as she pulls the dress over her head and looks into her mirror image. 

_ Wow. _

She rubs along the dress, flattens it on her body, still mesmerized and amazed at how great and beautiful it feels on her skin. 

It fits her like a glove. How could he know her size? 

She stands on her tiptoes, twists and turns, inspecting herself from every possible angle. 

_ Shoes. The notes said something about shoes _ , she thinks and takes a couple of steps to reach into the bag. Y/N pulls out the other bag and opens up the box.

Red heels, the same color as her dress. Not just a similar color. The exact fucking same. 

How?

She places one hand on the desk to keep her balance as she slips into the heels. Her legs feel wobbly in them, she rarely wears heels and these are super high.

Y/N takes a step closer to the mirror, turning herself in front of it. She bites on her bottom lip, suddenly very anxious of wearing it anywhere at all. 

She takes a couple of deep breaths, trying to calm herself down. 

_ In and out.  _

_ In and out. _

“Okay,” she sighs, “okay.” 

It’s more a way to reassure herself because Dean asked if he could see it, and a part of her really wants to show him. It's just that the part that doesn’t want to show him really, really needs convincing. 

She closes her eyes, her heart beating fast at the thought of walking out into the bar.

“Here goes nothing,” She murmurs and unlocks the door to Ash’s room.

______________________________________________

Dean’s having a conversation going on with one of the patrons and pours himself another whiskey, laughing when the dude told him something funny. He didn’t even notice that the bar went silent, only notices it when all he could hear is some murmuring and his own laughter next to the usual songs playing in the background from the jukebox, and there’s someone whistling.

He looks around, wondering what’s going on and then he sees it.

He sees her.

Standing by the door, the red dress clings to her frame and Dean’s speechless for a moment. 

The prettiest fucking thing he ever did see. There’s no other way to describe her.

Not that he didn’t think that she wasn’t cute before but Jesus, she’s beautiful and it’s a pity she doesn’t even know how lovely she is.

She looks around, all flustered and shy like a deer caught in the headlight and Dean almost feels guilty for wanting to have a taste of it. Almost feels guilty for wanting to corrupt her, wanting to feel her legs wrap around him, wants to fucking mark her as his, wonders sometimes, if she blushes as sweetly when he eats her out and makes her come on his cock alone.

Someone was yelling from the back, “Hey, baby, you wanna take a ride—”

“—Shut up!” Dean’s deep voice cuts the dude off and he throws in a malicious look, for good measure.

The one guy at the bar is still whistling and then he licks his lips, “Baby, are you a drill sergeant? Because you have my privates standing at attention.”

The bar erupts with laughter and she looks down to her shoes.

Dean didn’t hesitate to drive his fist into the man’s face. He hears a crack, grins because the dude deserved it. 

“Anyone else?” Dean asks and looks around the room before he turns his attention to her.

He walks over, sees her blushing a little, “Come on, let’s go to the back.”

The guy who’s standing next to her opens his mouth to say something. Dean thinks the guy probably has a death wish or way too much to drink because he doesn’t know when to stop, “Those clothes would look great in a crumpled heap on my bedroom floor, baby.”

Dean’s about to strike out when she places her hand on his arm. 

“I got this.” She whispers with a smirk and then she does. Y/N takes a step towards the guy and drives her elbow into the man’s jaw.

The guy drops to the floor, wincing and spitting blood. 

“Anybody else wants to try their pick up line on me?” She asks the now silent bar and Dean has a really hard time to hold back the laugh that wants to burst out of him. 

“No? Good. Because they all suck.” She says and just stands there and waits and Dean thinks she’s ready for anyone who would want to come forward with a stupid remark. When the bar stays silent, she turns around and storms through the door in the back.

Dean only shrugs at the people who were still speechless, before he follows her.

“Winchester’s whipped.” Ash could be heard under his breath before the door closes completely.

“I heard that.” Dean shouts back.

“Good.” Came loudly from the other side, followed by laughter. 

Normally, Dean would go out there and probably rip Ash a new hole but she’s walking swiftly down the corridor and he follows, almost bumping into her when she turns around abruptly to face him, her hands are braced on her hips.

“How much was all this?” Y/N asks, gestures with her hands up and down her body.

“Don’t worry about it.” 

“No, really, Dean. How much? I’ll pay you back.” She says, and Dean knows that she means it. Had known from the start when she wouldn’t even take the tip he wanted to leave for her.

“I don’t know.” Dean says and it’s the truth. 

“What do you mean you don’t know?” Her forehead creases. 

“I really don’t know, alright?” Dean chuckles, brushing a hand through the scruff on his jaw. “I just went into the store and told them what I want. They said they needed time to get the right shoes and I had someone pick it up for me. I never asked how much it was, because I didn’t really care!” He runs his hand through his hair.

Dean sees her face softening, there’s even a smirk that’s tugging away at her lips. 

“You actually went into a store for this?” She’s grinning now and Dean thinks it’s fucking adorable.

“Yeah?” 

“You went into a store.” Y/N’s chuckling, “A women’s store. And bought a dress?” 

“Yes?” His eyebrow raises on his forehead.

She laughs. Loud, clear. It’s a beautiful sound.

“Were you embarrassed?”

“Uh,” He’s laughing too, tries to search for the right word, “It was awkward. But it was worth it. You look beautiful, Y/N.”

“Thanks.” Her face flushes, and she quickly turns away. “Alright, I guess it fits. Do I look decent enough for you to take me to the opening like this?”

She walks the couple of steps to Ash’s room, stalling at the door and turns to look back to him.

“I’d take you anywhere, Y/N. Even if you’re dressed in your normal clothes, or a trash bag.” He says truthfully, and now it’s his turn to feel his cheeks heating up. 

He doesn’t know why he said it. Doesn’t really know what’s up with him because he feels like he just poured his heart out to her by saying it. Thinks, that if she knew  _ who  _ he really was,  _ how  _ he really was, she wouldn’t let him take her anywhere at all, and he wouldn’t blame her one bit.

“Not— not saying that you’re a bag of trash or anything,” He squints because he’s an idiot and would love to smash his head against the wall right now. Dean clears his throat, “Alright, I need to go help Ash. You take your time.”

“Alright.” She smiles and takes a step into Ash’s room, stops to look back at him. “Thank you, Dean.”

He nods and smiles back, bright and wide, before he turns around and walks through the door to the front.


	6. CH.06

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There are some discussions about a scandal on a classified ad website that really happened. Thank god that page has been taken down but these things will continue to happen and they dominate the lifes of minors who are captured and exploited by these people every day. If you are interested and want to know what happened, just ask me.

It’s a sunny day and there are lots of dog walkers in the park. Y/N was never really a dog person but Linda is, so maybe that’s why they always meet here at the dog park. Plus, it’s always crowded and they are able to go incognito. 

Y/N schleps her bags to the closest unoccupied bench she can find and sits down. 

Thinking about it, maybe she shouldn’t have bought this much. She only wanted to go in for one bra but then another one jumps in her face and it’s so cute with the lace and all, and it was the same color as her dress and of course  _ then _ she needed matching panties and then, of fucking course, she needed them in different colors too. 

She doesn’t really know why she bought so many. Why she thinks that someone will ever see her in them. It’s not like she has a boyfriend, nor does she have a boy she wants to show them off to, for that matter. She’s no prude by any means and has lost her v-card a long time ago, but work has always been more important than going on dates. Not that she hasn't tried the dating thing, it’s just— every time she met with someone, she couldn’t help but run a background check on him, which she is technically not allowed to, but she’s better safe than sorry. And even if their record is clean, they bored her to death, and when she mentions that she’s with the FBI, they usually backed off on their own anyway.

Once Y/N settles, she pulls out a book from her bag and starts to read. Of course she can’t concentrate on reading. Can’t really think about anything else but how cute Dean looked when he was mortified that he might have said something weird. She also can’t stop thinking about how big and firm Dean is. How the dress shirt stretches tightly over his chest, the buttons praying for mercy. Can’t stop thinking about his perky little nipples that poked at the shirt and screamed to be freed. And his arms. Ugh. It always looks like the shirts cling onto his biceps for dear life. Not to mention the veins in his forearms when he had his dress shirt folded back. She noticed that night that Dean Winchester’s arms and hands were, in fact, freckled.

_ No _ , she shakes her head. She has no business thinking about him that way. But also, he has no fucking business looking that good, so there’s that.

She hardly notices someone sitting down next to her until the person speaks up.

“You went shopping?” 

It’s a familiar voice. 

Y/N doesn’t turn her head, instead looks at the person through the corner of her eyes. The woman next to her pulls out her phone and puts it to her ear.

Y/N continues to pretend to read. “Yeah, got an opening to attend, remember? You got what I sent you last night?”

“We looked through it. It’s quite a finding.”

“Really?” Because Y/N couldn’t make anything from the scribbles, “Good.” 

“There’s something about Lucifer in the notes. That’s just his nickname, which is fitting because he is indeed the devil. He’s Winchester’s rival. Used to be his right hand but split with them. Now he’s up against them while simultaneously building up a reputation in human trafficking.”

“Oh,”

_ Human trafficking _ , she remembers the time in training where they taught her about that. Knows that it’s a multi-million dollar operation behind it, knows that it’s dangerous as hell.

“Be careful, alright?”

“I will.”

“You wanna quit?”

“Why?”

“Because it’s getting risky. You just have to tell me and I’ll pull you out.”

“I know,” Y/N says. 

She knows that she can pull out anytime. It’s just—

—the more she gets to know Dean, the less she wants to quit. Which is unlike her at all. 

Y/N feels some kind of need in her. A need to know more about him. Wants to know how he ticks, wants to know why he’s always so reserved. She thinks there’s another layer of Dean Winchester. A layer you can’t see with your eyes, a layer you have to see with your heart. 

She thinks that there’s more to him than the mob boss and she feels weird to want to stay to see what’s beneath the hard shell. “So you’re telling me that Dean isn’t such a bad guy after all. That there’s someone out there who’s worse. Shouldn’t I try to get this Lucifer guy then?”

“No, Winchester’s bad, okay? I agree that Lucifer is worse but I can’t get you close to Lucifer. That guy is not only bad, that one is dangerous. I’d be risking your life and that’s the last thing I want to do.”

“Human trafficking, huh?” Y/N still looks down at her book and turns a page, just in case. “What kind?”

Linda nods subtly, “He started with organs but he wandered into sex-trafficking. Mostly young girls.”

“Wow.”

“Girls from normal families, runaways, sometimes he gets them off the street, promising them shelter and care—”

“—But instead they get abused and drugged.” Y/N finishes the sentence.

“Yes,” Linda nods.

“Isn’t there a special unit for that?” Y/N remembers her dad used to tell her about the  _ Village Voice  _ scandal.

“There is, and there’s another team on Lucifer but we’re working close with them.”

“So, what is that about, some sort of  _ backpage  _ kinda thing? I thought we put that to rest?”

“Oh honey, for every page we close, there are two or three more showing up, and that’s only the pages we know of.” Linda’s voice is small. 

Y/N remembers her dad being engrossed in his work while the  _ backpage  _ story blew up. A place where underage girls were trafficked. Heavily. Up to 20 clients a day. Every time she went back from college to see him in the years where  _ backpage  _ won case by case and continued to exploit girls on their page, he’d make sure to hold her just a little bit tighter.

“Right.” Y/N sighs, doesn’t want to think about all the bad things in the world because it would only rile her up more, “I need to keep going if I want to be on time for my shift.”

“I love you.” Linda says without looking at her. 

“Love you too,” Y/N replies, stands up and grabs her bags to leave.

  
  
  


*

  
  
  


Dean didn’t show up that night but when her shift ends, Y/N receives a text from an unknown number. 

_ D: Hey sweetheart, where can I pick you up tomorrow? Dean _

Her cheeks warm up and ugh, there’s the flutter in her heart. She should  _ not  _ be feeling this.

_ Y/N: Hey stranger, you were missed tonight.  _

_ D: Yeah, sorry, have a lot on my plate. Broken any noses or jaws tonight? _

_ Y/N: No, they behaved.  _

_ D: Good. Would have been a shame if I would have to punch them all in the face next time I’m there. _

_ Y/N: I can take care of myself.  _

_ D: I know. I also know that I shouldn’t get on your bad side.  _

She giggles at that.

_ Y/N: So, tomorrow, picking me up at the bar is okay. I’ll see if I can help Ellen before I have to leave. _

_ D: You are really a good girl, huh?  _

_ D: I’m kidding. I’ll see you tomorrow, sweetheart. Have a good night. _

_ Y/N: You too. _

She smiles to herself as she puts the phone back into her purse and proceeds to close the bar.

  
  


***

  
  


_ THE NEXT DAY _

“Alright, Ellen, everything’s in the cooler, you want me to help with anything else before I have to get myself ready?” Y/N calls to the back. Taking a look at the clock, she notices that Dean said he’ll pick her up in two hours time. There’s still plenty of time to do some other chores if Ellen wants her to.

“No, that’s alright. Just gonna hang up this sign,” Ellen comes through the door and pushes past Y/N with a sheet of paper in her hand. She notices some scribbles done with a black marker but can’t quite catch what it says.

“What’s that?” 

“Oh, I’m only open for a couple of hours tonight, gonna close earlier than usual.” Ellen shrugs and tapes the paper to the front door.

“Why?”

“I’m alone and I can’t possibly manage all the people. Have you noticed that there are more and more every night? I think it’s because of you, honey. They all drive out here to see you. And besides, Winchester paid me enough that I could actually close the bar for tonight, for the whole weekend even, but I guess some people still want to have a drink or two.”

“Oh,” Y/N could say she’s surprised that Dean paid Ellen, but really, she’s not for one bit. Thinks, it’s ridiculous how he always finds solutions by using money. 

“Go and get yourself ready,” Ellen pats her shoulder and disappears into the back office.

  
  
  


*

  
  


She’s sitting at the bar on Dean’s stool when the door opens to a tall guy. One she’s never seen before. 

He smiles when he sees her and waits at the door. “I take it, you’re Y/N?”

“Who’s asking?” 

“Hi, I’m Castiel. Cas,” He looks around, as if to inspect the bar but makes no further move, “Everyone calls me Cas.” 

Castiel walks in and stands in the middle of the bar now, his gaze wanders from her to the back door. From the back door to the jukebox and further to the other side of the bar, “I’m working with Dean and he sent me to pick you up.”

“Oh,” She says and swallows down the disappointment she knows she shouldn’t be feeling. Of course Dean’s busy. He’s a fucking gangster boss who helps his brother opening up a legal law-fucking-firm. It’s a wonder if he’s not busy.

“We should get going. We’re already late as it is,” Cas walks back to the door he came through and waits for her while he holds the door open, “You coming?”

“Sure,” Y/N says, and hops off the stool, bites on her tongue as not to snap at Cas and ask him why Dean couldn’t come. Because let’s be honest here, she shouldn’t care about it as much as she does anyway.

They walk out and Cas is a gentleman, lending her a hand to walk down the front of the bar. He’d parked right in front of it too, so that she doesn’t have to walk through dirt with her nice new shoes. 

“That’s Dean’s car, isn’t it?” She asks upon realizing the Impala that Dean usually drives.

“Yeah, he told me that if you should get suspicious, I can always show you his car. Told me you’ve seen it already and let’s be real here, she’s a beauty.”

Right, she definitely should have interrogated Cas. Especially because Lucifer is on the loose and he holds a grudge against Dean, apparently. Only she doesn’t think that she’d be important enough for Lucifer to consider her a person of interest at all, so it never crosses her mind that someone would want to harm her. Not even after what Linda told her yesterday.

Cas goes on after he settles in the car, “Like, he never lets me drive, ever! So who are you really that he even made me drive out here in his  _ Baby _ to pick you up?” 

“I’m his barmaid.” She just shrugs and it makes Cas laugh. Loud and sharp. 

  
  


______________________________________________

  
  
  


Dean nervously flips his wrist and glances at his watch. The party has started and people are starting to pour in. Some of them mingled together in a group, talking in low hushed voices. The background music is soft. Sam had wanted some jazz music, had dismissed Dean’s suggestion that people might prefer classic rock. His firm, his party, so Sammy put his foot down. 

There were also powerful people here, judges, doctors, state reps, they’re all legal on the outside, but Dean knows their secrets — as much as they know his. Which kind of works to his disadvantage, really. 

He’s standing off to the side, grabbing a bite off the trays the servers are bringing every now and then, shaking hands with people he has never met, letting Sam introduce him as his brother, the war hero. To say that Dean’s bored and feels out of place is an understatement.

Jo’s hanging on his arm like she belongs there and Dean can’t remember when the last time was that she’s been so clingy. She’s talking to Jess who’s hanging onto Sam. Sammy’s beaming from ear to ear and Dean likes that. Finds his own comfort in Sam’s happiness. 

Sam’s been with Jess since college and Dean advised him not to spill too soon about who he is, who his family is but of course Sam did the contrary. Boy has some authority issues. To Dean’s surprise though, Jess stayed with Sam and cut all ties to her family. He guesses that it really must be love. 

Whatever love is. 

He doesn’t know it, can’t really say that he’s been in love himself. Love. It’s only a word, some utopian thing that only happens in movies. Well, or something that happens to other people. People who deserve it. Like Sammy for example.

“Dean!”

He doesn’t have to look in the direction to know who it is. Dean would recognize the voice — or rather the noise — anywhere. Jo’s hand around him grips him tighter, as if she wants to mark her territory. Dean thinks it’s weird but before he can even form a thought in his head, he hears loud clicking of heels walking swiftly towards him.

She struts closer with her mother. Both of them dressed to impress with too much make up on their faces. It makes them look like very expensive hookers. Those kinds where Dean wouldn’t want to get involved with.

“Amara,” Dean greets her and then, he’s being hugged. Amara’s strong perfume penetrates his nostrils, her boobs rub against his chest and he knows that she does it deliberately. Jo lets go off him by the sheer force of the hug.

Dean literally plies himself from her and her arms are still hanging off his shoulders when he greets her mother, “Rowena,” He nods. 

“Hello Dean,” Rowena’s smile was bright and white. “How are you, boy?” 

Dean knows that Rowena likes him like a son. She was madly in love with his father, he didn't even know if they had something going on, didn’t really want to know, to be honest. But he knows that Rowena would have loved it if he would have married her daughter, which, of course, would only happen over Dean’s dead body.

“Good, thanks.” Dean tries to smile and somehow winding out of the grip Amara still has on him. “Oh, hey, Sammy’s here. It’s Sammy’s night tonight.” He grins and it’s all forced, hoping to avert the attention from him to Sam. 

Jo’s gripping his arm again, on his other side hangs Amara, and the two women are sending each other daggers with their eyes as they greet one another. Dean looks around the room, trying to see if someone could get him out of his misery, knows that he could do it himself, and as much as he loves to tell them both to fuck off, he has to play nice because he doesn’t want to upset Sammy on his brother’s big night.

When nobody seems to notice his state of discomfort, Dean decides to make the best out of it, talking to the group of people and making lame jokes. To his amusement the two women laugh the loudest at something that isn’t even remotely funny, making Dean frown in bewilderment.

He looks up again, his eyes scanning the room, maybe someone will take notice of him now. His eyes stall at the front door.

Cas walks in, Y/N on his arm. Their eyes meet immediately, and maybe Dean’s wrong but he sees her looking down right after, as if she tries hard to look at anything else  _ but  _ him. 

He can’t help but feel a pang of jealousy hitting square in his chest, right where his fucking heart is, upon seeing her hanging off Cas’ arm. 

At that moment, all he sees is her. Sees her hair loose around her face, the pretty dress hugging her beautiful body. What he also sees is the color in her cheeks, and the puff of her lips, wonders how they would feel on his, or around his cock. Feels only a little guilty that when he rubbed himself off in the showers this morning and closed his eyes, all he saw was her. 

Dean pulls himself away from Amara and Jo. Shaking off Amara’s arm when he feels her nail claw into him more, hears her say something but he doesn't even listen because he’s literally running towards Cas and Y/N.

“Hey,” He comes to a halt in front of them, and she’s still not looking at him. Dean turns to Cas instead to get them some privacy, “Cas, thanks.” 

Cas nods and holds out Dean’s key to his car but doesn’t say a word, sensing the awkward situation that Dean’s in immediately. 

“I need a fucking drink,” Cas declares and pushes himself further into the room to find the bar. 

“You okay?” Dean asks as Cas has left. It’s a stupid question really, when he could clearly see that she’s not, in fact, o-fucking-kay.

He sees her hugging her arms around herself and when she looks up, he notices something else in her eyes. Something he can’t place. Maybe hurt? Annoyance? He doesn’t know, could never read a women like a fucking book. And he can’t say that he doesn’t hate that she feels this way.

“Yeah, why shouldn’t I be?” She smiles but Dean can see that it’s a little strained. 

He rubs one of his hands over her arm and she relaxes noticeably, which he thinks it’s good, isn’t it? Dean takes her hand, pulls her with him, and he’s glad that she let him, “Come on, let me introduce you.” 

*

He got her drinks and it wasn’t long before she warmed up to him again while they talked and laughed with Sam and Jess, having successfully fended off the two other women as Dean stopped paying attention to them. 

Dean can see now from the corner of his eyes as he checks her out every now and then (he didn’t dare to stare at her too long though, fears that she might feel uncomfortable), that her smiles are genuine. 

_ Thank fucking god,  _ Dean thinks. Wouldn’t even want to think how awkward the night would be if she would be mad at him for the majority of it. 

“Dean Winchester!” 

He knows that voice, knows it too well. Dean sighs and rolls his eyes before turning around, earning a giggle from her which actually makes him feel better too.

“Crowley,” He nods.

Crowley grins. “Nice party,” 

“Yeah, I agree,” Dean answers sharp. 

“And who is this lovely young lady?” Crowley looks at Y/N and the dude takes her hand, kisses it while Y/N clearly looks stunned. 

Dean balls his hands into fists, bites the inside of his cheeks to calm himself down.

“Y/N, this is Crowley—” He says at last.

“The mayor.” She finishes Dean’s sentence. 

_ Of course,  _ Dean thinks. He tends to forget that Crowley is not the sneaky leprechaun but instead the mayor of the city. 

“Darling, mind if I borrow this giant for a moment?” Crowley asks Y/N and Dean hopes that she says no, even though he knows that he needs to talk to Crowley but tonight he’d rather let business be business and enjoy the time he has with her. Who is he kidding though, of course she’d say yes because she’s a good fucking girl. 

“Go ahead,” She smiles and nods. 

  
  


*

  
  


Dean didn’t see Y/N for the rest of the night. Amara’s back on hanging to his every step and every which way Dean turns, there’s always someone who wants something from him, even if it was Sam’s fucking night. 

He doesn’t complain though, playing his part — because he owns Sammy that much. He talks to people while Amara’s hanging on his arm, laughing at stupid jokes that people tell him and telling his own lame ones over and over. It’s fucking draining and he promised Sam that he won’t drink a drop, he regrets the promise right about now. 

Finally, by the end of the night, the guests start to leave one by one, and Dean looks around because he still couldn’t find her so he walks over to where Sam and Jess are saying their goodbyes to their guests. 

“Dean, you alright?” Sam asks and Dean knows that Sam can probably see in Dean’s face that he’s distressed. 

“Yeah, no,” Dean doesn’t even have it in his heart anymore to keep up the facade and lie to Sam, “Have you guys seen Y/N?”

“I saw her talking to Amara but it was almost two hours ago,” Jess says and as if on cue, Amara walks past them, grabbing at Dean’s arm again but Dean shakes her off.

“Amara, have you seen Y/N?” Dean almost shouts and it might have been louder than he wanted it to be but yeah, he’s a little worried — if not a lot. 

“I spoke to her and then she said she wanted to go outside to get some fresh air.” Amara’s tone of voice has something in it that rubs him the wrong way.

Dean pulls his phone from his pocket, thumbs over his contacts and dials Y/N’s number. It doesn’t even ring. It went straight to voicemail. He tries it again. And then again. 

“Right, Sammy, I gotta go,” Dean doesn’t even wait for Sammy to answer, instead he runs outside, and when he doesn’t see her, he runs to his car.


	7. CH.07

Dean floors the Impala, somehow wishing that he had let Cas taken another car, a fucking fast SUV for example, but he’s stuck with his Baby now. He swears loudly at all the other cars on the highway, why are there so many cars at this time anyway? And why are they all in his fucking way?

*

The lights are out at the front of the Roadhouse but when Dean parks his car, he sees a flicker of light on the inside. Glancing back through the lot, he could spot her car, his heart is still racing. 

Technically, she could be here. He fucking hopes she is.

He hurries out of his car and goes straight for the door. He can be glad that it’s unlocked when he bursts right in; wouldn’t actually have cared if it was locked at all because he was ready to kick that damn door down.

Dean exhales the breath he feels like he’s been holding since he embarked on the drive out here. Was worried sick of where she was, hoped that she didn’t go somewhere with Crowley, fucking prayed that Lucifer didn’t get to her. He doesn’t even know if Lucifer knows about her, wouldn’t surprise him if Lucifer did, because that dude is always ahead of him, and Dean still hasn’t figured out the rat in his own goddamn organization.

Y/N’s here. Had been here probably for a while already by the looks of it. 

She’s standing behind the bar and knocks back the remains of a drink from a tumbler upon seeing him. The bottle next to her looks awfully familiar to his brand of whiskey. The very Glengoyne 30 years single malt whiskey that costs about $700 a bottle, and she just knocks it back like it’s some fucking dollar store liquor. 

Dean chuckles to himself at that, knowing that he would be fucking mad if it was someone else but right about now, the joy of seeing her unharmed and well — and a bit drunk, as she knocks back shots after shots of expensive booze — is a sight for his sore fucking eyes.

“There you are,” He breathes out and there’s a shy smile from the chuckle that tugs away at the corner of his lips. 

He can’t lie, he’s relieved but also he desperately tries to will his heart to fucking calm itself down — the drumming in his ear is getting annoying — which is irony on its own, he reckons, because his heart can never still down when he’s around her.

Y/N makes a snorting sound as she refills her drink, “Well, here I fucking am, aren’t I?” 

Dean eyes widens at the remark and he blinks. She’s feisty, how could he forget.

“How did you get here?”

“Took an Uber,” She shrugs and puts her hand that’s holding the glass up, takes an aim at him and Dean ducks in time to hear it smash against the door behind him, droplets of liquid spill onto his head.

“What the fuck was that for?” Dean snarls in bewilderment, wonders if she did miss him deliberately because he actually thinks that if she really wanted to, she could have hit him square in the face with it, and maybe, it's even what he would deserve.

She takes another glass and pours herself a shot while she chuckles, “Oopsie, it slipped. My bad,” She shrugs and grins darkly before she knocks back another mouthful of drink and then she swallows and pauses to think, placing her index finger to her temple to emphasize it before she speaks, “You invited me to a party, Dean. And, and, and— and then, you left me alone!”

Y/N takes the glass and holds it up, aims it at Dean. He has no problem ducking one more time. Her movements are slowed under the influence but again, he thinks that she doesn’t really want to hit him.

“Hey!” He shouts, taking a step closer. “What happened?” 

He knows that she’s right. He did leave her alone and he’s still fucking sorry, but there must have been something else going on because it can’t be that she’s so upset about him not being by her side for the evening. It can’t be. He refuses to believe it. She had Sam and Jess, and even Cas as company, which, he knows, was still a dick move of him but there was business to be talked through and he hates it as much as she probably did. 

Nonetheless, yeah, he should have been straight with her about the evening. But what could he have told her? 

_ Sorry, I will be mainly talking business with my illegal business partners because we’re a bunch of gangsters?  _

_ I really want you there but you gotta let me go and take care and discuss about how I gonna fucking move 20 tonnes of narcotics and illegal firearms across country?  _

Because that would have gone down fucking great, wouldn’t it?

“What happened? Oh, nothing,” She drinks straight from the bottle now and brushes away the alcohol from her upper lip with the back of her hand, smearing the little lipstick that’s still left on it around her mouth. It’s pink and swollen and he would love to have a taste.

Dean knows that he can’t say it loud, because she’s distraught enough as it is, but she looks fucking cute when she’s upset. Instead of saying anything, because he doesn’t want to anger her more, he sits on the stool and takes the bottle from her and rests the bottle head to his own lip to take a large swig himself. He feels the liquid burn down his throat, warming his stomach, and he squints at how good it feels. He had missed that the whole fucking night. 

“So, you wanna tell me what got you so mad, sweetheart?”

“Don’t sweetheart me,” She hisses and Dean’s trying hard not to laugh, instead he just stares at her, raising his eyebrow in question and waits for her to talk.

She rolls her eyes after a while and sighs audibly, “Oh… I don’t know, maybe just fucking people putting me down all night? And one of them wanted to get in my pants is what happened!” 

Y/N reclaims the bottle and almost drains it in one go.

“Hey, sweetheart, easy on the booze,” Dean pulls the bottle from her hands, spills a little of the brown liquid. She fucking pouts, and it distracts him but he has no time to dwell on that. Not yet. He walks around the bar to stand next to her, “Who did put you down?” 

“Oh, you know, your girlfriend,” She starts and stops when she sees Dean frowning at her, “The tall one? Long beautiful hair, kissable red lips? Tight fucking dress, long legs to die for, come on, don’t tell me you forgot how your girlfriend looks like?” 

He doesn’t answer, instead he keeps on staring, the frown lines getting deeper as he does.

Y/N looks down to her hands that are picking at something invisible on the counter, “Anyway, she said I shouldn’t try so hard because you're way out of my league anyway,” 

Dean reaches out a hand to brush at the loose strand of hair that falls around her face, tucking it back behind her ear before he leaves his hand at the base of her neck. He lowers himself a little, to be able to look her in the eye. Can’t stop staring at her quivering lips, at the pink of her cheeks. 

He smiles a little before he says something, “First of all, she’s not my girlfriend. And second of all, you actually believed her?” 

Her eyes shoot up to meet his, as if she’s challenging him, “So, your girlfriend is the other one then? The one who said that I’m nothing special?” 

Dean is taken aback and frowns some more, for good fucking measure.

“Jesus fucking Christ, Y/N. You believed them?” The pressure of Dean’s hand on her neck gets slightly harder.

“Why shouldn’t I?” She takes a step back, walks back out of his grip, “All I know is that I don’t fucking know you.”

“So? You don’t know them either!” He tries to counter but he knows deep inside that she’s right. But also, there’s the fact that he doesn’t know her either. He knows though, that he wants to fucking change that if she gave him one fucking chance.

“I just don’t get it, Dean.”

“What are you not getting into that pretty head of yours?” 

“You have two, stunningly beautiful women swarming around you, who would — and I have no doubt about that — do anything you tell them to, without fucking question. So, tell me. Tell me why did you want me around when you know that you won’t have time for me anyway?” 

He smirks, wonders a little if he reads her right. He thinks he does. 

“Sweetheart, are you jealous by any chance?” 

“No?” It comes out faster than he expects but then she looks away. He chuckles as she squints her eyes and lets out a frustrating throaty shriek to admit defeat, “Yeah, maybe? I don’t know!” Y/N folds her arms over her chest and pouts again.

_ That damn fucking pout! _

_ Fucking adorable.  _

Dean can’t stop grinning. Thinks that he’s not the only idiot here after all. Is relieved that she might be feeling all the things he feels, too. Kind of hopes that she does.

“You really don’t get it, do you?” He chuckles at all the cuteness and takes a step closer, grins some more when she stays rooted and doesn’t back away.

“I don’t get what?” She mumbles angrily and adds, “And I mean, if anything, I am out of  _ your  _ league, it’s not the other way around!” Y/N’s slurring her speech a little too, and Dean thinks it’s damn fucking adorable, wants to actually launch forward, kiss her stupid, and make her stop talking, make her feel what he really thinks of her but —

—he doesn’t. 

Not yet. 

He doesn’t want her to think he’s only interested in one thing. He’s not that shallow, at least not anymore. Even though he wants nothing more than to feel her. Feel her skin on his skin, feel her heartbeat underneath him. Wants to hear her moan his name, wants to see the pleasure in her eyes, the glow on her face, wants to hear her beg for more.

He throws his head back upon hearing what she said and laughs loudly, making her punch him in his chest and Y/N’s giggling, too, “Yeah, you are.” He agrees with the biggest of smiles. 

“And who wanted to get in your pants?” He raises an eyebrow, because that’s the real question here, hopes it’s not one of his men because he’d rather not kill one of his own. 

His heart is thumping in his chest as he watches her frown and bite down on her bottom lip. Someone clearly has an expiration date coming up. Fucking hell, Dean’s hands balls into fists at the suspense.

“The mayor,” 

Well, he can’t kill that one either, sadly, even though he fucking wants to.

“Yeah, I thought so,” Dean feels agitated. He’s not surprised by the revelation, because Crowley is known to hit on anything on heels, “How?” He can’t help but ask, even though he’d rather not know the answer to his question.

“He said he thinks that I’m very cute and he’d like to offer me a job. Asked if I wanted to go to his mansion upstate with him tonight, he’d like to show me how good a real man could make me feel.”

_ That sneaky little motherfucker _ , Dean thinks, and he feels the urge to leave, to drive back and give Crowley an earful for hitting on—

—on  _ what  _ ? 

His girl? She’s not even his. Dean would love to call her that one day though, there’s no denying. Can’t possibly deny that he would like to claim her, mark her as his, so that everyone fucking knows and nobody wouldn’t dare to try to mess around with what’s  _ his _ .

“Wow,” Dean huffs out, takes a step back from her as a precaution because suddenly, he very much wants to punch something, or shoot someone, “Straight down to business that man, huh? And what did you say?”

He closes his eyes, kind of fears the answer, but he knows that she’s here now so she didn’t go back with that dick. Still, it upsets him very much.

“Said that I liked my job and that I have STD. He backed off right away. I could literally see him walking backwards.”

Dean snorts out a laugh. He laughs louder than normal, probably. But he doesn’t really care because he’s so fucking relieved. Y/N laughs with him. The sound of it is sweet and warm, smooth like honey, something he’d love to hear more often.

They both need some time to calm down after.

“So, can I ask you something?” He’s standing right in front of her again and waits for her to look up to him. His heart is doing somersaults and it’s a weird thing to be feeling, “How much did you eat tonight?” 

“Ugh,” She squints her eyes to think and Dean’s having a hard time not to laugh at the drunk girl in front of him, “I don’t think I did eat anything.”

“Not even the little bits and pieces that've been served tonight?”

“Nope,” Y/N shakes her head, “Too busy drinking my frustrations away,”

“Ah,” He grins, “Understandable. So, let’s go get something into your belly to soak up all of that booze you drank, shall we?” He takes her hand and pulls her along with him. He looks back to see her puzzled face, laughs because she’s wobbly on her feet, “I know the best burger place in town.” Dean winks and smiles brightly before he pushes the door open into the night.

“But, I gotta clean up the mess!” She exclaims, pulling at his hand and already wants to run to the back to probably get the broom and shovel, Dean assumes.

He let out a hearty laugh, holding her hand a little tighter not letting her go, “Y/N, let it go, take the stick out of your ass. You don’t always have to be good, alright?”

She blushes at that.

  
  
  


*

  
  


Dean parks his car when they arrive and walks over to her side to help her out. The night’s chilly and she didn’t have the time to get a coat as he practically dragged her out of the bar. He notices her shivering, so he takes off his jacket, drapes it over her shoulder, which earned him the sweetest of smiles from her. One that makes his heart flutter in his chest.

It’s weird but he slowly gets used to it, gets used to the constant fluttering and beating of his heart. He still doesn’t like it, though.

“Come on,” He says, offering her a hand and holds on to her when she places her hand in his.

He threads his fingers through hers, his thumb brushing over her wrist, painting figure eights on her skin as they walk towards the little shop.

“Wow,” She lets out when she sees the queue of people. “It’s way past 2am and they are still queueing?”

“Don’t worry, I get special treatment,” Dean winks with a cocky smile.

Y/N rolls her eyes and he huffs out a laugh. 

He holds her tighter when he pushes a way through all the people queuing and waiting, “The best burger in town,” He turns his head back to tell her and wiggle his eyebrows and she raises hers, as if she wants to say that the jury’s still out on that one. 

Dean ignores the shouts from the others who told them to get in line, as they walk past that said line, and he only glances back to shoot them a mean look. Sure enough, nobody said another word to him after. 

He pushes his way into the small burger shop. The interior is lined up by only a couple of seats in the front next to the counter and a long bar to stand and eat your burgers. Dean looks around before he sees a big bulky man in a baseball cap coming towards them.

“Dean!” The man pulls Dean into a hug. Dean’s hand is still holding Y/N’s and it makes the hug super awkward but Dean takes it, relishes himself in the familiar feeling.

“Hey Bobby, you got a table for us?” 

“Of course, I do. For you always!” Bobby’s as cheerful as ever. 

He takes them to the back where there are a couple more tables set up that are not occupied. Dean knows that Bobby keeps this space especially for Dean’s people and the people Bobby trusts. 

It’s simple, easy and, in Dean’s opinion, that’s the charm of the whole place. Dean likes being here. It always feels like coming home.

Bobby finishes cleaning the table for them and braces his hands on his hips, his belly standing out a little. “And who is this lovely young lady?”

“Bobby, that’s Y/N,” Dean introduces her, “Y/N, meet Bobby. He used to feed me when I was younger.” Dean says and he actually wanted to warn her, wanted to tell her that Bobby’s a big hugger but it’s too late. Bobby scoops her up in a big bear embrace and she squeals a little while Dean couldn’t hold back, throwing his head back as he holds his belly laughing.

“So lovely to meet you!” Bobby almost shouts, “You know, Dean here, all you see, that’s my doing. He was so thin the first time he walked in here.” Then he turns to Dean, “You should have told me you’re bringing a lady around. You never bring ladies! I would have cleaned up a little more!” Bobby’s eyes trail to the empty boxes and cartons that are standing around the empty tables.

“Bobby, it’s fine, you’re doing good,” Dean pats Bobby’s shoulder and the older guy nods.

Dean waits for Y/N to sit down before he takes a seat himself. 

“Yeah, yeah. Whatever. Can I get you the usual?” Bobby asks and Dean opens his mouth to say something but Bobby doesn’t even wait for Dean to answer, already knows that whatever he brings would be alright for him. So Dean closes his mouth again, fully aware that Bobby just made a goddamn fool out of him. Dean raises his eyebrows and laughs it off.

“I’m sorry, I should have warned you.” He’s still grinning and she’s still out of breath from Bobby. He can see, even in the dimly lit space, that her cheeks are flushed and she’s clutching at her chest. 

“It’s okay. What does he mean he  _ fed  _ you?” She asks and Dean knows that the part didn’t slip her mind. She’s attentive, even when she’s slightly drunk. 

Dean’s mind races, wondering how much he can tell her. How much he  _ should  _ tell her.

“Bobby’s been like a father to me,” He explains, “My dad died some years ago, before I went to Afghanistan. Long story short, I didn’t really take care of myself because I had new responsibilities and was engrossed in my new position at a job I didn’t really want in the first place and frankly just went for days without eating properly because there was simply no time.” Dean could see the frown on her face and pauses before he tries to smile, “Don’t worry, sweetheart, look at me, I did alright, didn’t I? Bobby delivered food every day after he saw me at dad’s funeral, the old man wanted to make sure that I didn’t waste away.”

Her face falls, creases are showing between her brows and dammit, he wants to ease them away, preferably with a kiss. 

He stares at her, watches as her face softens, “Y/N, I didn’t tell you tonight when I saw you, but you look lovely.”

She blushes visibly, mumbles a  _ thank you  _ without looking him in the eye as a small smile tugs at her lips. She brushes a strand of hair behind her ear, and Dean can’t stop staring at her, she’s definitely the prettiest thing he ever did see. 

Bobby arrives with burgers and fries, interrupting them and Dean laughs, telling her to dig in. 

What Dean learns during the meal is that she doesn’t share fries. Well, she doesn’t share  _ hers  _ but she wants him to share  _ his _ . He laughs when he tells her that it’s not fair until Bobby overhears them and brings another big tray of fries, she grins brightly at Bobby and thanked him.

Bobby also keeps beer and drinks flowing, which Dean thinks, is counter productive, since he actually brought her here to sober up, not to get her more wasted, but he can’t find it in his heart to tell the old man off, so he kind of tries to get as much food into her as possible.

“Why did Sam introduce you as a war hero?” She asks and he looks up to see her taking a bite out of her now second burger.

He swallows down the bite he just took and licks his lips, “I came back unharmed.” 

Y/N raises an eyebrow, knowing that there’s more to it and Dean doesn’t really know if he should tell, or rather,  _ what  _ he should tell her.

He inhales and exhales audibly before he talks, “I wasn’t on duty that day, meaning that if you’re not on active duty, you’re supposed to help supply the battle positions with ammunition. It was before 6.00AM when it all started,” Dean tries to keep his voice low and calm because his heart is picking up speed again when he thinks back, “We were attacked by around 300 enemy fighters, which is not really a lot but considering that we were only a little more than 50, that’s quite a fucking lot,”

Dean closes his eyes just briefly, the image is right behind his eyelids. It’s like a fucking bad movie that keeps on playing on replay.

“I ran, or sometimes, crawled from one battle position to the other supplying them with what they needed to keep on firing and defend our position. Ran yards across open ground, and it rained fucking bullets, until I got into the Humvee for shelter. We’ve been shot at though.”

He can see the frown on her face but she doesn’t say anything and she stops eating to listen to him, so he goes on.

“They went out to look for the others and that’s where Milligan got shot. I couldn’t leave him there so I ran to him, brought him back to the Humvee and somehow, I managed to get him to the aid station where the doctors were working on the other injured already.”

He reaches out for his beer and takes a large gulp, his throat feels awfully dry all of a sudden. 

“They started to work on Milligan right away,” Dean chuckles but it’s not a happy kind of chuckle, “All he did was ask me over and over again if I had a cigarette, which of course I didn’t. I went right out there again though, and started to supply the gunners with more ammo. Somehow, we managed to push them back and there were choppers flying in to bomb the enemies after a long and loud day. They also flew Milligan right out as soon as they could.”

Dean takes a break to drink again, swallowing the tears in the process.

“I came home and received a Medal of Honor, still didn’t think I deserved it though. And for Milligan, he didn’t make it,” Dean’s voice is small, “Can you believe that the last thing he asked for was a goddamn cigarette and I couldn’t even give him that.”

Y/N reaches over, covering his big hand with her small one, drawing lazy circles on his skin with her thumb and Dean likes that. Likes how it soothes him. “It’s not your fault, Dean.”

“I know,” He nods. 

“You did the best you could. And you deserved it. You’re a hero, Dean,” She squeezes his hand and he can see in her eyes that she really means it.

Dean changes the subject pretty fast after that, not really wanting to tell her about what came after. Doesn’t want to tell her about the nightmares, and the depression that followed.

But still. 

Still, he hasn’t felt so relaxed and free in a long time. Has never felt like himself more than tonight. He wasn’t Dean Winchester, the mob boss. He doesn’t have to pretend, doesn’t have to play a role. It’s easy, talking to her, watching her, getting to know more about her, even if she does not reveal a whole damn lot.

It’s so easy being around her that he begins to think of what could be. And it’s a dangerous thought that he shouldn’t be thinking, he knows, because honestly, he doesn’t want to drag her into  _ this  _ life. Into  _ his  _ life. It’s not exactly a nice one.

He likes how she listens to him, how she’s taking everything in and gives him honest thoughts and opinions. How she doesn’t try to impress him at all (she wouldn’t have to anyway). 

_ The easiness, the laughter… that’s good, isn’t it? _

_ It is.  _ Dean decides. 

But also it is kind of terrifying, he can’t lie about that. The real question here is, Dean thinks,  _ can he afford to let himself fall in love? Is he willing to risk everything for a woman? _

*

“‘M not druuunk,” Y/N giggles and almost stumbles over her own two feet as they are getting up to leave.

Dean lets out a soft chuckle, “Who would dare to think that?!”

“I’m—”

She trips, and Dean’s there to take the fall, placing his hand around her waist and holds her upright.

“Just toptipsy,” She laughs and leans in, buries her face into his chest and closes her eyes.

“Yes, you are,” Dean grins, strokes her head with one of his free hands, “Let’s get you home, sweetheart.”

  
  



	8. CH.08

Dean’s currently holding her hair out of her face as she retches and empties her stomach into the toilet bowl.

If someone would have told Dean that the girl he takes home would end up on her knees, he would have said  _ nice _ . If they would have told him that she’ll be on her knees in front of a toilet with her hands around it instead of on his thighs, and that he’ll be holding the hair for the girl so she can puke after Sam’s big night, he’d have laughed and thought that they’d be joking. 

Guess the joke’s on him, huh?

He thinks that he’s an idiot too, because let’s be real here. Maybe, he should have said no to her when she wanted to knock down the last shot of tequila which Bobby brought them at the end of the night. Dean didn’t object because he thought that it would be it. One shot and it’s done, but she held her glass out to get a refill and Bobby was just too damn happy to oblige. Dean didn’t want to seem like he’s a destroyer of fun so he let her. 

In hindsight, it was a fucking bad idea. 

Dean ended up taking her home to his place. Not because he had anything in mind, well, maybe he did, but this certainly, wasn’t what he had in mind at all. 

No, he had actually wanted to drive her back to her apartment, make sure she got home alright, but she fell asleep right after he sat her into his car. He didn’t know where she lived so he thought that it would be okay if he took her with him. It’s not like he wanted to part with her in the first place anyway, so it was kind of a win-win, really. Win for him, because she can keep him company for a while longer. Win for her, because… Well, yeah because who else would have helped her holding her hair out of her face right about now? 

Dean rubs along her back, trying not to breathe through his nose as the stench of vomit fills the bathroom. He’s used to it, though, it’s not the first time that he helps someone. Mostly the other person he helps is Sam. For example, after the first time he allowed Sam to drink. There were also other times, when Sam was sick with stomach flu or when Sam thought smoking weed was cool. And then there was the time when Sam thought he could outdrink Dean, that ended up real messy.

To his surprise, Dean doesn’t mind all of this. Doesn’t mind it one bit. He’s always been a caregiver. Always took care of Sam. Always made sure that the people close to him had everything they needed. It fills him with some kind of pride to know that he can take care of her and it might sound weird, but Dean needs that too. Needs to feel that he’s useful for at least  _ something _ . And especially, he needs her to know that he’d be here for all the bad things too, because that’s life. It’s not always sunshine, cupcakes and fucking rainbows, he of all people knows about the darker side to life.

In hindsight, though, feeding her so much food was probably a damn bad idea either.

Y/N’s gotten sick half way here and they had to stop twice, and now that he finally got her into his apartment, she hangs onto the bowl for dear life while Dean takes off her shoes for her and tosses them somewhere out of the way.

She brushes the remains of her puke around her mouth with the palm of her hand and rubs it on her dress in order to get her hands clean again. Dean cringes but he’s been there, so it’s technically not really his place to judge. Slumping over the bowl, she rests her head on her arm, which is still hugging the seat. Dean thinks it’s over. Hopes, it is, as he reaches above her and flushes the toilet. She doesn’t even stir at the sound it makes.

He leaves her there and gets up, rinsing a fresh washcloth underneath the warm water before he returns to her and let her rest her back against the wall. Dean begins to clean up her face as good as he can. There’s still mascara traces but he’s afraid to rub too hard, not really wanting to hurt her and he’s sure that he doesn’t have any make up remover in his apartment; thinks that maybe he should get some, just in case. But that would be wishful thinking and he can’t allow himself to go there yet. Not that he doesn’t want to, though.

She opens her eyes only to close them again, and there’s a frown on her face as she weakly bats his hand away, “‘M fiiiine,”

“Of course you are,” Dean’s lips curve into a grin. 

He is actually thankful that she speaks, even though her speech is still slurred. He can feel his grin going wider, feels the deepening of the crinkles around his eyes. 

Seeing her like this, he can’t believe that he still thinks that she’s the cutest thing. Ash had once said that he’s whipped, and yeah, that might be really true. It’s a feeling that should scare him, and it does, he can’t lie about that. 

He quickly finishes cleaning up her face before he gets up and walks to the sink. Opening up the cabinet below the sink, he takes out and breaks open a new package of toothbrush. Dean squirts some toothpaste onto the brush, walks back to her and crouches down to be on the same level.

“Open up for me real wide, will ya?” His fingers rests on her cheek, this thumb pushes below her chin, holding her steady. He chuckles to himself, can’t believe that he’s saying this without any intention of having his cock sucked. 

“Augh fiugh,” Y/N says again while he brushes her teeth. Dean guesses that she is still trying to say that she’s fine.

“I didn’t say you weren’t, sweetheart. Obviously, you’re just peachy!” Dean’s holding back a laugh, “Can you hold the brush yourself, yeah? Brush your own teeth?”

“‘Course,” She scoffs, taking the brush from Dean’s grip and starts brushing with her eyes still closed.

He can’t help but watch her for a while, before he realizes that he needs to get things moving, “I gotta change you, Y/N, hold on, alright? I’ll be right back.” 

There was no answer. Not that he expected any.

Dean doesn’t know if he’s going too far with changing her but he can still smell the vomit on her dress and thinks that she could do with sleeping in something more comfortable — actually wants to rinse out the puke from it so that she can wear it again when she wakes up, but in order to do that, yeah, he needs to get her out of it. Somehow, he guesses, undressing her will hurt him more than it’ll hurt her.

He comes back with a fresh shirt, had contemplated as he stood before his dresser whether he should get her bottoms too, but he thinks that his sweats would slide right down and he has the feeling that his boxers would do just the same. 

He hurries back towards the bathroom and the sight that greeted him when he saw her was a sight to behold. She’s fallen asleep with the back of her head resting against the wall. The toothbrush sticking out of the corner of her lips. She’s drooling a little too. 

Dean thinks about taking out his phone and snapping a picture, just to have a memory, something he can look at and smile, since that doesn’t happen a lot lately, but he decides against it. She’d make him delete for sure, before getting mad. But he thinks about doing it even more now, in spite of her getting mad, because it would mean that he would get a chance to see that pout again. 

Carefully, he takes the toothbrush out of her mouth and tosses it into the sink. He’s going to take care of the mess in the bathroom later. 

First things first.

“Come on, sweetheart,” He whispers as he kneels down next to her. His fingers are working on the zipper on the back of her dress. 

Dean swallows hard as he sees her bra and he’s fucking annoyed that he’s half hard by the time he pulls the dress down over her breasts.

“Dean,” Y/N mumbles and for a moment, Dean stills.

He waits and wonders if she’ll say something else, but instead, she just nudges her face against his chest, smearing the little make-up she still has on her face onto his white dress shirt. He can’t find it in his heart to even care if he’ll ever get it off the shirt again or not. “Dean,” 

“Shh..we’re going to get up, alright? I need to get this dress off you,” His voice is low, steady, soothing. His hand now grabs her arms and pulls her up with him, “Just hold on to me,” 

Y/N leans against him, her face still buried his chest, her hands fists in his shirt as he makes her step out of the dress.

Dean tries not to look at her, tries not to notice the lace lingerie that is so see-through and so fucking thin that it really, truly, might as well not be there. He’s wondering though, if she wore it for him. His dick stirs uncomfortable in his pants and he hopes she’s too far gone to notice.

“I like you, you know,” She mumbles softly against his chest and his heart is beating weirdly fast again. 

“Thanks?” He stammers, wriggling her in his arms so that he can get one hand free to reach over to the counter.

“Do you like me back?” She looks up to him, but soon her eyes shut close. 

Dean’s frozen still for a moment, not really sure if she really wants an answer to the question. Not even sure if it was a real question because yeah, why else would he put up with all this if he doesn’t like her at least a little bit?

“Yeah..uh.. Yeah, I do,” Even if he doesn’t know if she’s being serious or if she’s even going to hear it, he answers her anyway, and nods with a chuckle. 

He could see her pulling the corner of her lips up into a shy smile and he starts to sweat and blush. Dean can’t really explain it, but around her, his body does things on its own and he’s not entirely happy about that.

“Good,” She moves her arms up and sneaks them around his neck before getting on her tip toe, her eyes are still closed as she rubs her face against the crook of his neck. 

He lets her. Actually enjoys the closeness, enjoys the feeling of her skin on his. 

“Why don’t you kiss me if you like me?” She looks up to him now, her eyes shiny and a little red and Dean wonders if it was from him rubbing at it with the washcloth.

Dean swallows drily and quickly grabs at the shirt that he has placed on the counter before, pulls it over her head swiftly so there would not be any chance for him to look at her body no more. Dean’s trying to behave and be fucking good, and he’s afraid that he’s gonna fail if he keeps on staring. Also her asking about a kiss doesn’t help at all. 

She’s pouting by the time her head sticks out of the simple t-shirt and Dean tries to ignore the pout that makes him fucking weak. Instead of answering her, he kisses the top of her head. 

Y/N giggles at that, “That’s not a kiss,” 

“You’re very drunk,” He can’t stop his hands from sneaking around her waist. He’s telling himself that it’s to help her hold herself up on her own two feet, knows that it’s for his own benefit too, “You’re saying things you don’t really mean and I really don’t want to take advantage of that, sweetheart,” Dean smiles weakly. It’s weird because in his past, he always took advantage of that, “Come on, let me get you to bed.” 

Again, a sentence he never knew he’d say to a girl without the intention of getting his dick wet.

“Dean?”

“Yeah?” He looks down to see her smile, wonders too, what she thinks.

“I need to pee,”

He laughs, “Then go pee,”. He turns her around, and even walks her over to the toilet. 

“Uh..”

“What?” Dean raises one single eyebrow.

“Alone?”

“Oh, sure, sorry,” He feels the heat creeping up his cheeks. “I’ll be right outside,”

“‘Kay,” She nods and waits until he closes the door behind him. 

Dean paces around the room, walks out to grab a water bottle from the fridge just to have something to do. He doesn’t like leaving her in there alone. She could fall asleep again, or worse, trip and fall and what would he do then? He tries to push the thought of a bloody Y/N out of his mind as good as he can.

He sits on his bed, waits to hear the flush of the toilet and then there’s the tap running. He’s at the door again as soon as she opens it. 

She looks at him and frowns but he ignores her, takes out the bottle of Tylenol from the cabinet, takes two of them out and holds them up for her. “Take them, you’ll thank me tomorrow,”

Reluctantly, she takes the two pills and puts them into her mouth while Dean unscrews the bottle and hands it out to her to wash the pills down with. 

Taking a couple of sips, she hands him the bottle back, but Dean tells her to empty it. There’s no fight left in her and he thinks it’s almost too easy because a sober Y/N would probably argue for him not to tell her what to do. 

“Right, now bed,” Dean’s tone of voice is full of authority and when she stumbles, he grabs around her waist to steady her. 

As soon as her head hits the pillow, she closes her eyes, and Dean hears her mumbling softly. Something that sounds awfully like  _ thank you _ . 

Dean doesn’t say anything though, instead he walks back to the bathroom, cleans the mess and rinses her dress, uses a fuck ton of soap to make it stink less so she’d be able to wear it again when she wakes up. 

He also makes himself ready for sleep, brushes his teeth, and takes some Tylenol himself. He wanted to take a shower, but he also doesn’t want to make too much of a sound, so he just abandons the idea of a shower that would ease the tense in his body. His dick is still on half mast and he’s truly ashamed of himself for even thinking about it, about doing it with her, when she’s lying unconscious in his bed. 

After he switches off the light to the bathroom, he lets his eyes adjust to the darkness of his bedroom before he walks over to his dresser and begins to loosen his tie and unbutton his shirt.

“You’re not coming to bed?” She whispers, her voice low and groggy. 

To be honest, Dean hasn’t really thought about  _ how _ , or rather,  _ where  _ he’s going to be sleeping. Hasn’t thought this whole thing through, was too distracted by a vomiting girl and now he thinks that maybe he will go crash on the uncomfortable couch again. Or maybe sleep in the easy chair next to the bed just so he can be close when she needs anything. 

“I will, now you sleep, okay?” His hands working swiftly on the shirt, throws it into the hamper before he unbuckles his belt. The clinking of metal is loud in the silent room.

Y/N shuffles, moves over to the other side of the bed, the side that’s usually his, “Made room for you,” 

“O-okay,” Dean swallows as he gets out of his pants, grabs at the nearest t-shirt he can find and pulls it over his head. His hands shake nervously and Dean thinks that his hands are sweating, too. Not something that happens often.

He takes off his socks, misses the seam of one of them a couple of times and he could swear that his heartbeat can be heard in the silence of the room. He walks the couple of steps over to the bed, his hands grabbing the covers, lifting it up and getting in quickly. The warmth of her radiates onto him quickly.

And now Dean’s lying here, all weird and stiff, and he doesn’t really know what to do. It doesn’t happen often that he, of all people, doesn't know what to do and he doesn’t know what’s happening with him. It’s not like he never was in bed with a girl before. It’s a first that a girl is in  _ his  _ bed though. He usually never takes them home, always opts for hotels so he can escape the awkwardness of the mornings after. Instead of doing anything really, Dean lays still. That is, until she turns towards him and snuggles closer. 

Dean lifts his arm on pure instinct, and she comes in willingly, placing her head on his chest. He hopes that she’s already too far gone to hear the drumming of his heartbeat. Hopes that she can’t feel how hard his chest is vibrating.

“Thanks,” She sighs and Dean doesn’t answer, doesn’t need to because he can feel her body go lax in his arms, can feel her breathing even out, and he swears, he’s out as soon as he closes his own eyes.

______________________________________________

Y/N wakes to bright light in the room. She blinks a couple of times and looks around before she lets her brain catch up. 

Rubbing over her eyes with the heel of her palm, she blinks again, and lets her eyes adjust to the brightness of the room. Her head’s drumming to the same beat as her heart.

“Fuck,” She mutters and thinks that she’ll never drink again.

Never ever. 

She remembers bits and pieces of last night. Not in vivid details but at least there’s something, so that’s good, isn’t it? 

She definitely doesn’t remember this room, though.

Her eyes widen as she starts to panic. Y/N lifts up the covers, looks down on herself, all the while muttering a prayer and hoping that she didn’t do anything stupid.

There’s relief when she realizes that she’s wearing clothes. Although she sees that the shirt is a couple of sizes too big, a little washed out too. Led Zeppelin is written on it and 1977 just below it. She lifts the neckline to look underneath and grins when she sees that she’s still wearing her underwear. 

Y/N falls back into the bed, letting the warmth of the sheet embrace her again and buries her head into the white fluff of the pillows. She breathes in the smell of fresh laundry and there’s some other smell too… cologne? The spicy, yet warm smell lingers in her nose and she frowns, wondering where she smelled the scent before. 

She closes her eyes, wills herself to remember when she hears a sound of something.

Water.

Definitely water.

A shower. 

Someone’s taking a shower.

_ Fuck _ , it’s Dean, isn’t it?

She smelled the cologne on Dean before, already thought back then that it’s a soothing, warm and spicy smell, a smell she wants to wrap herself in, if that’s even possible.

Well, she maybe kind of hopes that it’s him and not someone else. She doesn’t know a lot of men and honestly, waking up to Dean showering is the best case scenario that her mind can come up with. 

She tries to remember last night. Knows that they’ve been to a burger place. Knows that she ate a lot but also that she senses that she probably drank even more. 

Fuck, she squeezes her eyes shut.

Y/N doesn’t remember much after, the car ride to wherever they are? Him taking off her dress? 

_ Oh my god _ , he took off her dress. 

He saw her in her lingerie, which lets be honest, is almost invisible.

_ No, no, no, no. _

She didn’t wear it with the intention to show. At least sober her didn’t.

_ Ugh.  _

She is definitely never going to drink ever again. 

_____________________________

Dean closes his eyes as he stands under the stream of water. 

It was weird waking up to a warm body next to him this morning. He’s not used to it. Not used to waking up to someone in his own fucking bed.

He slept well, though. Hadn’t slept like this for what seemed like forever. For the first time in years, he didn’t have a nightmare. The banging in his head, the exploding bombs and shells, they were gone. He had a dreamless sleep and even though it was only a couple of hours, he feels more rested than he ever did since he came back from the war.

Dean closes his eyes as the water cascades around him and thinks back. Thinks back to him opening up his eyes to see her snuggled up next to him, her breathing warm against his arm, and he couldn’t help that his cock twitched at the closeness of them, at the intimacy. Because that is what it was, isn’t it? Intimate. He’s always been scared of intimacy. Not the one night stand kind of intimacy but the more meaningful one. And strangely, waking up like he did this morning, he finds himself wanting and craving more of it.

He doesn’t know if it’s the warmth of a body, the lingering perfume in her hair, the alcohol in his bloodstream or if it’s just her very existence. Dean thinks it’s the girl. 

Definitely the girl. 

Especially  _ this  _ girl.

The water rains down over his body. Cold, because he needs to get his mind off. He washes down the rest of the cum that spilled out of him a couple of minutes before. Feels a little ashamed that he rubbed one off and thought of her (but how could he not when he wakes up next to a half dressed girl next to him, wakes up to  _ this  _ half dressed girl). 

And he still does, thinks about her, that is. 

Thinks about her laugh when he told her a joke that wasn’t funny. Thinks about how he carried her over his shoulder as they arrived at his place.

He thinks about how she rubbed herself against him like a cat as he got the dress off her. Thinks about how she saw the bar next to the couch and actually wanted to go for it, despite throwing up twice on the way here. Thinks about the pout when he told her that she’s not allowed to drink anymore. 

And then, she started to pout. 

_ The damn pout _ , Dean thinks. He hates it as much as he loves it. 

Dean wonders how much she’ll remember when she wakes up. Will she remember him manhandling her out of her dress and into a clean shirt? Will she remember her rubbing against his body? Will she remember the things she said?

  
  
  



	9. CH09

When she hears the shower being turned off, Y/N sits upright and inches closer to the edge of the bed with the full intention to get up, but instead, she stays there unable to move without feeling nauseous. Everything seems to be spinning and she’s a minute away from running into the bathroom to throw up. 

Honestly, she wouldn’t even care if Dean wasn’t finished. Kind of hopes that he didn’t lock the door because she really doesn’t know how long she can hold it in. She figures that going in and throwing up into the toilet while he’s still showering is still better than puking right here in his bedroom.

_ Oh god _ , his bedroom. 

They are in his bedroom, aren’t they? That’s his place?

Slowly, something comes back...

_ Shit!  _ Oh god… 

She threw up last night too, didn’t she? And Dean was there to witness. 

Great. Just fucking great. Fun-fucking-tastic!

Her eyes find a dot on the hardwood flooring. She tries to concentrate by staring at it and willing her head to stop spinning, and thankfully, it works.

The bathroom door opens just a moment later. She can tell by the damp air that surrounds her, even if she doesn’t see it. The air is tinted with the smell of fresh soap and shampoo, too. The sweet smell is not really helping in suppressing the feeling of her sickness, though.

“Hey, you’re up,” 

It’s a low drawl. The sound rumbles deep, makes the hair on her body stand up and she can’t fight the warm feeling that spreads on her face.

_ Yep, definitely Dean.  _ He’s the only one who can make her feel this way.

“Yeah, but at what cost,” Y/N tilts her head up a little, wishing she didn’t as she sees him walking out of the bathroom, a towel slung low around his hips. She’s thankful that she’s feeling so sick, thinks that even if she’s blushing, he probably can’t even see it from the pale of her face.

She stares at the floor again, tries to ignore Dean’s damp body with little droplets of water dripping down his chest. Tries to ignore the perky nipples she’s only seen through his shirt until now, and yes, she can confirm, they are indeed perky. Fucking tries to not notice that Dean fucking Winchester has cute little freckles all over.

He laughs a beautiful laugh, throwing his head back and all. She thinks it’s a beautiful sound, warm and deep. And if she wasn’t as hungover, she would be able to enjoy it more.

She stands up — and fails. Has to try a couple more times, her hand fists in the covers for stability. She knows that she’s making a complete fool out of herself, if only she could care more about it, but her state of mind doesn’t even allow that. Win for her, probably.

“You ok?” Dean approaches cautiously, holding his arms out as he speaks, ready to support her if he must, she knows that too. Because Dean is just caring like that, and she hates it a little too, hates that he’s not the textbook mob boss she had hoped he would be.

Y/N doesn’t answer him right away, instead, turns her head back to stare at the dot on the floor, tries to even out her breathing and calm her beating heart at the sight of him in nothing but a fucking towel, “I’m fine,"

Dean throws his hands up in defeat before he crosses them over his broad chest. The very chest she tries hard not to look at. He stands off to the side as if he’s waiting for something. There’s nothing but the stupid towel around his hips and he doesn’t say anything, just stands there with raised eyebrows. And he waits.

Y/N wants to know what he’s waiting for, until she realizes that he’s waiting for her to stand on her own two feet, probably ready to be at her side if she should stumble.

_ Gah. _

She sighs, rolls her eyes, and lets go of the cover to walk to the bathroom on wobbly feet. 

Dean grins, one of his hands goes up to rub as his jaw as his gaze follows her to where she’s heading. She hears the scratching sound of his scruff. 

“Stop staring,” She lets out, a little annoyed, and he chuckles. 

“I’m not doing anything,”

“You’re staring,” She pouts and sends him a look before she ignores him, which, she thinks, it’s a sane thing to do. 

She ignores the stupid crooked grin on his face. Ignores the crinkles around his eyes, the wet disheveled hair, the damp fucking body. 

He looks so good. 

_ Ugh.  _

He definitely doesn’t have any business looking  _ that  _ good so fucking early in the morning. 

Once she’s in the bathroom, she shuts the door behind her before she takes a look at her own reflection in the mirror. There, she notices that her eyes are dirty and black from the mascara, her hair is all ruffled up and sticking out in every direction. She, for sure, doesn’t have a good hair day. Doesn’t have a good face day, either. 

_ Ugh. _

Maybe if she wouldn’t be so hungover, she’d be appalled by herself, would feel a little shame about how bad she looks, but she just can’t really find it in herself to care at all. Not even with Mr. Adonis in the next room and what does that say about her, really? Perhaps that’s the reason why she has been single for so long.

Y/N searches for a washcloth, debating on taking a shower too, but she really doesn’t want to invade his personal space. How weird would it be to shower here. She comes to the conclusion that it would be weird. Like, really weird.

Her eyes trail across the sink, finds a bottle of water with two pills next to it and a toothbrush. There’s also a fresh washcloth.

“Take the pills!” 

She can hear his authoritative voice through the closed door and rolls her eyes.

How did he know? Looking around, she scans the bathroom — which is probably bigger than the whole of her apartment — for a camera but then pushes the thought away because she can’t imagine Dean being so creepy. If he is, she has to adjust her creep-radar. 

After swallowing down the Tylenol, she takes the cloth and runs it under the warm water, washing her face with it as good as she can. She brushes her teeth too, puts her hair up into a bun, with a hair tie she always has around her wrist, and is thankful that she hasn’t lost that one.

Y/N walks out of the bathroom looking somewhat presentable, she thinks, (but even if she wasn’t looking that way, she’s okay with it. She’s too tired to care.) just as Dean walks back from what she assumes is the living room with her dress in his hands. There’s a faint smell of coffee that he brings in with him and her mouth waters at the thought of tasting black liquid. 

He’s only wearing a simple t-shirt and sweatpants, which is a high contrast to his tailored suits but it suits him nonetheless and Y/N wonders what could make the man look bad, really. He makes everything look so good on him and honestly, it does frustrate her a little, if not a whole lot. 

Because how fucking dare he. Life’s not fair!

She sits back on the bed, still feeling a little dizzy as she watches Dean come to stand before her. He places her dress onto the bed next to her. 

“You okay?” He asks and she doesn’t look up. Doesn’t want him to know that she is, in fact, not really okay. 

“Yeah, yeah. Thanks for letting me crash here.” 

“Don’t bother,” He crosses his arms over his chest, “I cleaned your dress a little, if you want to wear something else, I’ll get someone to brin—”

“—No,” She shakes her head, “The dress is fine. I’ll change once I’m home.” 

Because that’s what it is, right? He lets her crash because she was drunk off her head. There’s clearly no evidence that he did something to her while she was out cold and who knows if he’s even slept in the same bed? And now that the night is over, she has to go back to her home. Back to her life. She can’t help but feel a little disappointed, sad even. 

And it bugs her to no end, because she knows. She knows that she should not be feeling all the things she feels. She knows that she shouldn’t be disappointed and think that this might go somewhere. Because after all, he’s still the mobster boss and she’s a cop. These things don’t usually mix.

Dean crouches down so he can look her in the eye and she feels that she’s blushing because he’s so close, and she still hopes that she’s too pale for him to notice. 

“Listen, I need to meet Sam for training, will you be okay alone here?” 

“Y-yeah, I shouldn’t stay though,”

“You can stay as long as you like, even go back to bed if you want to, it’s still early. There are fresh towels in the bathroom if you wanna take a shower. I just don’t have any of the girly scented stuff here,” 

Y/N nods and Dean grins before getting up on his feet again. 

“Good,” He says, but he’s not moving, is staying right there in front of her, “I’ll be away for about two hours, three tops. You can wait and I can drive you home,”

“Shit, my car,” It was only now that she realizes that she doesn’t even have a vehicle to get away if she would have wanted to. How fucking stupid of her. 

“It’s alright, if you want to go now, there’s a box of car keys at the entrance, just take one and push the button when you’re in the parking garage, you’ll see which car will light up,” 

“Oh,” 

“And if you want to stay, there’s coffee and a full fridge, alright?”

She tilts her head up a little, not realizing that when Dean stands, his crotch is right at the same level as her face and why is she staring? She doesn’t really know, just knows that Dean fucking Winchester is packing and ugh, she can’t ply her eyes away. 

“Okay,” She’s not the one to small-talk when she’s hungover, apparently. Not that she’s hungover a lot. 

Dean chuckles and holds out his hand, placing his forefinger below her chin to lift it up so she could look up at his face, “My eyes are up here, Y/N,” 

She blushes and now, she thinks that she can’t possibly hide the red that spreads across her cheeks. 

He frowns a little as he looks into her eyes and she feels somewhat intimidated. Dean sighs before he speaks and draws circles on her chin with his thumb, “Do you remember anything from last night?”

“Uh..” She echoes his frown, “..Not really a lot, to be honest. Why? Did I do something embarrassing?” She chuckles out, it’s fake and all. 

It’s not a lie though, she doesn’t remember much, kind of hopes that her memories will come back — at least some of them.

“No, you didn’t,” Dean’s voice was small and he sighs once more before he let go of her face, “Right, I need to get going, Sammy gets mad when I’m not on time. Will you be okay?” 

“Don’t worry about me,” She says and she can swear that she hears something that resembles disappointment in his tone of voice.

“Good, I’ll hopefully see you later,” Dean walks to the door and looks back to nod one more time before he closes the door behind him.

_ Ugh.  _

*

Y/N walks out of the bathroom, feeling somewhat alive now after she’s had a good cup of coffee and a nice hot shower. 

There were some difficulties because she’s never been in a fancy shower before and had trouble pushing the right buttons to get to the right temperature and right spray pressure. It’s ridiculous, really. Taking showers shouldn’t be this hard.

She’s wearing her dress again, had contemplated on leaving out her worn panties but it would have meant that she would have to go commando, which would make her feel even more uncomfortable than wearing her old ones, so she had to make due. 

Walking out into the living room, she takes a look around again, sees things she’s missed before when she quickly downed her coffee. 

Dean’s apartment is big and incredibly spacious. It’s decorated in warm earthy tones, using a lot of leather and wood, which doesn’t really surprise her at all.

By the look out of the window, she notices that she’s up high. Probably one of the cities new built high-rise buildings. Judging by how high she is, it could be a penthouse too. Which shouldn’t surprise her at this point.

She wants to explore more, sees that there are doors on the other end of the living room but before she can even make her way across the room, she hears a knock on the door. 

Y/N walks to the door in her bare feet and opens up on instinct without another thought, which is actually a very dumb thing to do, since it’s not even her apartment.

“Oh,” Jo’s mouth opens but doesn’t close.

“Hi,” Y/N says equally surprised and she tries to smile but it doesn’t come out right. 

“I actually came by to ask Dean if he wanted a quick fuck,” Jo eyes her up and down before she continues, “But I think he already had a boring one? At least you look like you’ve been fucked six ways to Sunday.”

Y/N is blushing, “We didn’t—”

“—Is he in?” Jo cuts in just as she wants to explain, but then she thinks that she doesn’t have to explain anything. She doesn’t owe Jo a damn fucking explanation.

“No, he’s meeting with Sam.”

“So, did you guys...” Jo raises one single eyebrow.

“It’s none of your business, but no.” Y/N has finally found her voice and sass, “I’m pretty sure the street corner right down here is not too crowded if you’re looking for a quick fuck.”

Jo’s shocked but she composes herself before she pushes past Y/N to get into the apartment.

When Y/N closes the door and turns around to confront Jo, she’s looking right into the barrel of the blonde woman’s gun.

“I don’t believe a word you say, but come to think of it, I’m glad I got you alone,” There’s a creepy grin on Jo’s face.

“Why is that?” Y/N’s heart races but she keeps her cool, she had been trained to do so for years.

“My boss wants you. It’s a pity that he wants you alive, though,” The blonde woman shrugs.

“But, your boss is Dean?” Y/N acts like she doesn’t know about all the shady stuff because the truth is, that Ellen only told her that Jo’s working for Dean. That’s really all she should pretend to know.

“Technically, yeah. But we’re not exclusive, you know.”

“Jo, I don’t know what you’re playing but I’m really not in the best of moods today,” Y/N rolls her eyes, her patience is running dangerously low. She’s already calculating her next moves in her head, knows that she would have no problem taking Jo out, if only she isn’t so fucking hungover.

“Oh, my bad. Did he leave you here alone because he couldn’t bear to see you in the morning, huh?” Jo snickers, “Because that happens, you know? I bet he made you feel special, huh? He’s awfully good in doing that, making girls feel special and drop them the next morning like they are some kind of fucking meat that goes bad after a night. Princess, I don’t fucking care about your mood. Walk to the door, we’re taking a road trip. Now.”

“Jo,” Y/N is massaging her temples when there’s a sudden noise in the back, something metallic drops to the floor and she sees a big and fat grey cat. 

Jo’s distracted too, turns her head to look at the source of the sound. Y/N takes the opportunity, paires it with the element of surprise and disarms Jo with her skilled moves.

What she didn’t account for was that Jo’s quick too, hits Y/N’s wrist and sends the gun sliding across the floor before Jo wrestles her to the ground and straddles her. Jo’s hands are around her throat while Y/N trashes around with her legs.

“Strike one,” Jo pants and applies enough pressure on Y/N’s windpipes to make breathing difficult.

Y/N summons all her strength, extends her arms and gets a hold of Jo’s hair, pulling Jo close before she turns them both around and wrestles with her opponent on the floor. Jo’s pulling and tugging at Y/N’s dress and underwear and she thinks she hears something rip but she can’t care about it now. 

They toss and turn until the blonde woman is lying on her stomach, and this time, Y/N is straddling Jo. The gun’s now so close that Y/N can grab it without her even having to try to reach it. 

And that she does, pointing the gun right in Jo’s face while she breathes heavily and tries to calm herself down, “I told you, I’m not in a fucking good mood,”

“Fuck you,” Jo spits out, “Kill me now, because if Dean sees me, I’m dead anyway.”

“No, I won’t do you the favor.”

Jo laughs, “Coward!”

Instead of shooting, Y/N whacks Jo over the head with the gun. The blonde closes her eyes, her body goes limp. 

That should do it for the time being.

_____________________________

Sam’s elbow is pressed sharp into Dean’s rip, and Dean can’t explain what happened. He didn’t pay enough attention, is what it is, and now his sparring partner, who happens to be Sam, has the upper hand. 

Dean’s flat on his back, Sam’s bracing above him. His brother’s other arm is pressed into Dean’s throat and there’s a fucking cocky smile on Sam’s face. 

“Wow, you’re getting old.” Sam chuckles as he gets off Dean and holds out a hand to help Dean up, but Dean doesn’t take it, is annoyed at the defeat. 

Sam’s never gonna let Dean hear the end of it, he knows that. Never in his life has Sam managed to defeat Dean, Dean never did let it happen. He never gave Sam somewhat of a slight chance on even coming close to a fucking win.

“Just stress,” Dean mumbles out a white lie.

It’s too weird to pour his heart out to Sam, and he’s never been good at expressing his fucking feelings.

“Y/N?” Sam asks as they walk to their bags, placed some couple of feet away on a bench.

Dean fishes out a towel from his sports bag and rubs it over his sweaty head while he takes a large gulp from his bottled water. He’s also trying hard to avoid answering the question, hoping that Sam would let it slide. He drinks up, draining the bottle and Sam’s still fucking staring at him.

“Ah, it is then,” Sam says it lightly, too easily, and it annoys the fuck out of Dean.

He sits down on the bench in the gym of the bunker. Sam joins him, taking a seat beside him.

Dean breathes out, debating on  _ how much _ , and  _ if _ he wants to tell Sam at all. Sam’s his brother, the best thing that could have happened to him. Sam grounds him. But Sam also is a fucking pain in his ass and always knows when something is up, and Dean’s annoyed of that part the most.

Dean tries to find the words, saying the first thing that comes to mind, “I’m terrified, Sam.” 

“You feel something for her, don’t you?” Sam grins knowingly, as if he can read Dean like an open book. “Tell me you feel it. The feeling that gets so big in your chest? Like something is so beautiful it literally aches?”

Dean thinks about Sam’s words. Admits to himself that yeah, it does hurt, in a way. And he definitely feels it.

“Yeah. But I shouldn’t.” 

Sam turns to him, “Why not? What the hell, Dean!”

“The fuck you mean? You know  _ who _ I am, Sam. You know  _ what _ I am. You know that if I let her into my life, she’ll become a target too. It’s a dangerous life…” 

_ What if I end up hurting her? What if I end up getting her hurt? _ He wants to add, but doesn’t, because Sam knows the unspoken truth.

Sam scoffs with a shake of his head, “So what? Take chances, Dean! You know, I haven’t defeated you, like, ever? That says something, right?” 

“You were just lucky,” Dean huffs and bends down to unlace his shoes.

“Nah, man,” Sam snorts, and stands up to pace around. He’s more worked up about this than Dean thought he would be, “You know what I think, hm?”

Sam says it like it’s a question but it’s really not, and Dean doesn’t know if he has to answer and is glad that he doesn’t have to when Sam continues.

“You’re terrified, I get that. But…” Sam rakes his hand through his own damp hair that needs to see some scissors, Dean thinks. “...you’re not terrified about what could happen, not really. No, Dean, you’re fucking terrified that she could make you happy and for you, being happy is the most terrifying thing in the universe.” 

Sam’s words hit Dean like a freight train, sits in his stomach like lead, and is weighing him down.

“You don’t get it, do you?” Dean scoffs as he finds his voice again, and looks up to his brother, “I’m terrified that once I’m happy, that it can be taken from me!” He rubs his hand over his face, “It’s not like you and Jess. You knew her before all of this!” He gestures with his hands but doesn’t explain, because he knows that Sam knows what he means. 

“No, I think you don’t get it. Fucking live, Dean. Do you really think that you don’t deserve to be happy as long as you live? If anyone deserves to have something good, it’s you!”

Sam stomps away in the direction of the showers and Dean knows. He knows for sure that Sam’s right. But also, he knows that he somehow is right, too.

*

“Lunch at Bobby’s?” Sam asks before they walk to their cars. 

There’s a vibration in Dean’s pocket and he fishes out his phone while Sam places his workout gear into the trunk of his own car. 

Dean looks at his caller ID, frowns a little because he didn’t expect the caller, “Jo,” Dean says.

“Yeah, no, it’s me. I found Jo’s phone in her pocket. I would have called you from mine if I wouldn’t have my hands full,”

“Y/N?” Dean frowns some more. 

Why is she calling him from Jo’s phone?

“Do you normally try to get the girls who sleep over at your place killed, or is it just me?” 

“What?”

Dean listens as Y/N explains what happened and his frown gets deeper— if that’s even possible. Sam stands there and waits as Dean closes his eyes and breathes out, “Fucking Christ, stay put! I’ll be right there. I’ll send Cas around, maybe he’s there quicker than me.”

He hangs up, and opens the trunk of his car to throw his duffel in while he thumbs over Cas’ number, “Cas, get to my apartment, we’ll meet there. Think we found the snitch.”

Sam’s still standing there, puzzled.

“Need to get back, Sammy. Lunch tomorrow?” Dean shouts out while he smashes his trunk shut before he walks to the front and climbs into his car. He drives away without waiting for Sam to answer him.

  
  



	10. CH10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for still staying with me and this story, I appreciate it :-)
> 
> I hope you still enjoy it, even with all the slow burning mutual pining that's been going on.

Dean floors the Impala, running over a red light but things go smoothly.

The next light though, is a whole other story. He’s lucky he grabbed the steering wheel fast enough, misses the slow driving Sedan by a hair. 

Maybe he should really be more careful. Crashing the car wouldn’t make him reach his apartment any faster.

At his building, he parks with a screech before he bolts for the stairs, didn’t even care that he has to run up twenty fucking flights because he can’t find an ounce of patience left in himself to wait for the elevator. 

When Dean arrives and walks through the door of his apartment, Cas’ already there, tying Jo’s hands behind the blonde woman’s back.

Dean’s panting, is slighlty out of breath from climbing all the fucking stairs in a hurry. His eyes scan the room, avoiding Jo’s gaze because he’s afraid of what he’s capable of doing, and he really doesn’t want to cause a scene. Not when Y/N’s still here. 

“Y/N?” He asks Cas as he couldn’t spot Y/N in the room with them.

Cas points his chin towards Dean’s bedroom as he secures the last knot on Jo’s wrist, “Bathroom. Cleaning herself up, I guess. She’s got some bruises and scratches, nothing major, at least from what I could see.” 

Dean’s already on his way over across the living room when Jo starts to say something but then all Dean can hear was a dull thud as Cas clubbed her over her head. 

He looks back to find the dark haired man shrugging at him. 

“It’s easier to get her into the car like this,”

Dean doesn’t say anything, just nods. 

“I’ll take her to the bunker. You take your time,” Cas lifts Jo up over his shoulders and proceeds to walk to the door.

“Yeah, thanks.” 

  
  
  
  
  


_____________________________

  
  
  
  
  


She’s locked herself in the bathroom, pressing a wet and cold face cloth against her cheek. Jo’s right fist is definitely nothing to joke about and now her cheek is swelling up. There are some more bruises on her body, some scrapes and cuts. Jo has goddamn long fingernails, false ones too because she had found some of them lying around the living room.

“Y/N!”

Dean’s shouting out her name as he enters the room, and soon the doorknob begins to rattle as he twists and turns it in a futile attempt to get in.

“Open up!” 

There’s banging and more rattling of the knob.

“I’m fine. Go away,” She calls out, because it’s true. 

She’s fine, still alive and breathing and she really doesn’t want to see him right now, still too salty about what happened.

She knows that her line of job is dangerous but she never knew that the danger would come from Dean’s freaking mistress. All she concentrated on was not to get screwed over or killed by Dean but she never put into account that she could get killed by Jo. How stupid of her! This is a fucking rookie mistake and she knows how it happened. It’s the fucking feelings that she shouldn’t be having in the first place!

“Let me see you!” His voice is louder now, but the banging is gone, “Please?” He adds, a little softer.

“Why?”

“I need to see that you’re okay!”

She sighs and rolls her eyes, “I’m okay, now leave me alone!”

“Jesus fucking Christ,” She hears him mutter. “Why did you lock the door!”

“Cas is here—”

“—Well, he’s gone now! Come on, sweetheart, open the door. You can’t stay in there forever!”

She chuckles drily, “Watch me!”

“Y/N, I’m fucking serious, okay? I’ll be out here, you have to come out eventually. Shall we see who can last the longest?”

“I can sneak out when you’re sleeping!” 

“You have to keep in mind that I’m a trained soldier, I’m used, and still am, to be awake for days if I must. Also I’ll hear you, I’m an awfully light sleeper. There’s no way out but through me.”

She rolls her eyes at his words, knows that he’s right. She’s still a little hungover and would love to get some more sleep in a fucking comfy bed. There’s no way she can win this stupid competition.

“Fine!” She scoffs, and proceeds to unlock the door but even before she can turn the knob, Dean already pushes his way in. 

Both his hands are on her face, cupping it between his big palms, as he examines her with worried eyes. 

“Shit,” He breathes out, his fingertips brushing over her swollen cheek and she flinches at the touch. 

Dean takes a step back, trails his eyes down her body, and she knows that he can’t miss the cut on her shoulder and thigh, can’t possibly miss the torn dress that’s hanging weirdly around her frame.

“You okay? Anything broken?” He places one of his hands on the back of her neck and stares into her eyes. 

She can feel his warm breath on her and she looks away, staring down to her toes, because those damn green eyes make her heart beat faster, and that’s the last thing she needs right now.

Y/N shakes her head, and that’s when Dean pulls her into a hug. She buries her face in his chest and she can smell the scent of fresh laundry and soap, and there’s something she can feel — his heartbeat that’s drumming quickly and steadily below the surface.

“I’m sorry,” He mumbles, she can hear the vibrations of his deep voice through his chest and shirt. Takes comfort in it because it feels like he really means it. 

Pushing herself away after a while, she thinks that she shouldn’t let herself go putty in his arms. Her hands are braced on the broad of his chest, and Dean still looks at her with concerned tinted eyes.

“Why did Jo come around?” She asks, feels that weird thing in her gut that makes her stomach turn.

“I don’t know,”

“You don’t know,” She breathes out, turns herself around and places the, by now, warm washcloth next to the sink, “Huh!”

Without a word, Y/N storms out past him in her bare feet. And Dean wasn’t prepared, he can only follow her out and damn his long legs! He’s next to her when she reaches the hallway, is in front of her quicker than lightning it seems, and braces himself by the door, preventing her from getting out. She turns again, looking around, thinking that there must be another way out of this fucking apartment.

“Y/N, for fuck’s sake, I really don’t know why she was here! Maybe you could tell me!” He grabs her by her arm until she turns around, only then, did he let go.

She bites on her bottom lip, trying to contain her anger and fear. Mostly fear. Fear of the truth, maybe. She doesn’t really know, doesn’t understand why she feels the things she feels.

“She told me that she was gonna ask you if you wanted a quick fuck,” Her voice is shaking a little, even if she doesn’t want it to. Even if she shouldn’t fucking care why Jo was here in the first place, because she herself shouldn’t have been here at all. 

This is all a fucking big mistake and she has to tell Linda to pull her out. She can’t take this. Can’t take the feelings. Feelings that shouldn’t fucking be here!

“Jesus, Y/N, and you believed her? You thought I was that kinda guy? Is that why you’re so upset?” 

“Well, apart from almost getting killed? Yeah… no! I don’t know,” She gestures with her hands, closes her eyes and lets out a loud sigh, “Fact is, I only know you for a couple of weeks, Dean. You invited me to a party in which you weren’t there for me at all. And that’s when I thought that I don’t even know you. I don’t even know what you’re doing for a living, I don’t know shit about you, and I can’t help but think that I was being so damn naive and my nativity almost got me kidnapped or worse! Why me? What is it that you do? Are you dangerous? Am I in danger?!”

The questions pour out of her like a waterfall and she can’t stop them. She knows that she should have maybe asked them one by one but she just couldn’t stop them from coming out.

Dean works both his hands through his hair, ruffling them up and sighs, he sticks out his tongue to wet his lips and then he looks back at her, she can’t miss the frown that grows deeper in between his eyebrows.

“Fucking hell,” He mumbles, lowers himself a little for her to be able to look at him because she’s still shoeless and she feels exceptionally small right now, “I promise to answer all the questions, but all in due time, alright? I don’t know why Jo did this! Fact is that I’ve been played for a very long time, and now I know that it’s her! I swear, once I find out, I’ll tell you everything you want to know,” Dean lowers his voice, is less loud now when he goes on, “I took you home last night. I took fucking care of you without even touching you! Even when you asked me to kiss you, I still didn’t because I didn’t want to take advantage. Can you imagine how fucking hard it was for me to not fucking touch you? How fucking hard  _ I _ was? I was being good and you think I’d fuck everything that knocks on my fucking door when you’re the only thing that I can fucking see?”

His words hit her like a freight train. He wants her? Her of all people? 

It doesn’t change the fact that Jo was here demanding a quickie, though.

“I asked you to kiss me?” She asks, surprised.

_ Oh god _ , did she really? Her cheeks turn beet red. 

“Yeah,” Dean huffs out, “I knew you wouldn’t remember.”

“No, I didn’t!” She punches at his arm, purely out of embarrassment. 

“Duh!”

She looks at her toes, wishes that the floor would open up and swallow her whole. 

That’s fucking embarrassing!

“But she makes it seem like it’s a frequent occurrence,” Her voice is small, she doesn’t really know why she says what she says. Maybe it’s because she’s jealous? She actually doesn’t want to know but also she does.

“It’s n—”

“—But you did sleep with her.” She interrupts him and crosses her arms over her chest while she stares up at him, sees him rubbing away at his jaw.

“Yeah, I did,” 

There’s that knife in her chest again and she let out a shrieking sound that comes from the depths of her throat.

He continues, “But that was before I met you!” 

Dean takes a step closer and she backs up one step, the sole of her bare feet hitting the wall.

He continues, “You drive me fucking nuts, you know that?”

Y/N looks up to see Dean grinning down at her, “What?”

Dean takes a deep breath, “Yeah, you’re so fucking unpredictable. You’re brave and strong-minded. It’s terrifying to be around you because you’re full of surprises. And really, sometimes I have trouble catching my breath because I’m trying so hard to keep up.”

“Oh,”

“It’s a good thing that I love challenges.” He reaches out a hand to touch her cheek, the one that hurts, and she flinches on instinct. 

“You’re right, you know. When you said that you didn’t know me,” Dean’s face is only inches from hers now, “If you knew me before and if you see me now, you would know that I’ve changed. People would say that I changed for the better. You fucking changed me, Y/N. From the day I walked into that crappy bar and instead of meeting a bottle, I met you. My life was never the same again. Tell me what I need to do to get you to believe me that all I fucking care about is you.”

  
  
  


_____________________________

  
  
  


_ My life was never the same again. _

_ Tell me what I need to do to get you to believe me that all I fucking care about is you. _

There’s not one word of a lie in the things Dean tells her. He was fucking whipped from day one and somehow, he had always hoped that she felt the same. He’s pouring his fucking heart out, can’t lie that he’s terrified of how she’s going to react and while he talked, he almost didn’t hear himself because of the drumming of his heart that shot up to his ears.

His heart is beating way too fast, way too hard, and he thinks he’s a blink away from passing out. This is fucking worse than being in the middle of combat in Afghanistan. 

“You could kiss me,” She looks at him, there’s a crooked grin on her face and Dean feels his heart leaps in relief.

He smiles and surges forward, covers her body with his. His hands around her waist as he presses her against the wall. Her fingers scratch at the base of his neck as he kisses her tenderly, savoring her sweet lips, sucks at them, is relieved when he feels her body relaxing in his grip, and when she kisses him back, he can’t stop the fluttering of his heart. His tongue goes in hesitant and smooth, waits to meet hers and she actually grins into the kiss, he can feel it.

The kiss grows harder, messier, and he feels himself pouring all the pent up frustration into it. His breathing picks up, and then she sucks at his tongue, making him forget his own damn name. It’s so much better than he imagined. Much better than the sleazy fantasies he’d been dreaming up all these days.

“Is that your phone in your pants?” She asks out of breath and there’s a cocky grin tugging at the corner of her lips.

Dean chuckles at that, his hands working down her waist, grips around her thighs and hoists her up to nibbles at her bottom lip before he kisses her again, a little harder than before, just because he can.

Only when they need to breathe some air do they break the kiss, and Dean keeps his forehead on hers. She’s smiling and he just can’t help it. Can’t help that he has to kiss her again. He places kisses on her nose, her lips, her jaw, she giggles at that, making him laugh too. 

“Come on, let's get you patched up,” He murmurs against her neck and breathes in the smell of her, but in reality he doesn’t really want to. Wants to stay like this, with her in his arms, wants to forget about his life and his obligations. Forget about the fact that he almost fucking lost her.

Dean walks her back into his bedroom with her still in his arms and lowers her down onto the edge of the bed, kisses her forehead before he has to go out and grab the first aid kit.

When he returns, she’s still sitting there, her cheeks flushed and her lips swollen. Dean feels a little pride in knowing that it’s him who did it to her, and he needs every ounce of self control right now to not just push her down on her back and have a go at her sweet lips again. He also tries to push the image of her — lying on his bed, spit slick and pliant with pink cheeks — out of his head. 

He leaves her in the room and walks to the bathroom, coming out with a fresh washcloth. Kneeling before her, he rubs the cloth over the dried blood on her shoulder. He cleans the wound and puts disinfectant on it, moving on to the next wound he spots next, while she wriggles and tries to sit right without him seeing underneath her dress — or what’s left of it.

Raising an eyebrow, he looks at her and is met by a blushing girl, but she doesn’t say anything, keeping the hem of her dress between her legs with her hand. 

Dean doesn’t dwell on it, instead, he works the cloth on her thigh, where there’s a bigger cut and a green bruise forming. He bites his lips, angry at himself for the things that happened to her, even if he knows that it wasn’t really his fault. He couldn’t possibly have known that Jo would show up and try to get her. 

“You’re awfully calm for someone who almost got kidnapped,” Dean looks up and he can swear that her cheeks gets a shade brighter, “Where did you learn your moves?” Dean asks, because as he could see before, Jo’s face looked much worse. 

“My dad,” She mumbles, “Always thought that a girl needs to be able to defend herself. Had a lot of sparring sessions growing up.”

“Ah, he’s right,” He places the cloth on the bed and grabs the disinfectant, “Sounds like a good dad.” 

“He was,” She answers.

_ Was.  _

Dean couldn’t have missed that. He feels the push in his guts to ask her more. Wants to know more about her, because as she said, she doesn’t know him, he sure as hell doesn’t know her either. But he let it slide, they will have more time to talk in the future. At least he hopes that they will. He still has got some explaining to do himself. 

All in due time. 

Right now, he should get her home and meet with Cas.

He works on her wound, and there’s a whimper when he sprays her with disinfectant.

When he finishes he looks up at her and she’s smirking, not with her full heart but she’s brave. It truly makes him feel better to see her smile. It suits her much better than the worry he saw on her face moments before.

He places his lip on the bruise, kisses her softly. Something in him feels jealous too. Jealous that it’s not him who gets to bruise her up first — although he would do it differently — and for a minute, he works himself up again, feels the anger towards Jo pushing to the surface. Wants desperately to punch something but Dean clears his throat and bottles up his feelings to be released on another occasion. 

He places another kiss on her knee, hears her giggling above him. 

Looking up to her again, he smiles “Are you hurt anywhere else?”

Y/N grins, all cocky and mischievous as she points the tip of her finger to the corner of her lips. “Here,”

Dean chuckles as he gets up and puts the kit out of the way, “Is that so?” 

“Uh-huh,” 

He places his one knee on the bed next to her and cradles her face with one of his hands, his thumb traces patterns on her jaw. Slowly he kisses the corner of her lips and then he parts. 

“And here,” She says, pointing her finger to her nose. 

He laughs, kissing the tip of her nose, “Better?”

“Much better,” She breathes out and he kisses her again, this time on her lips and they are as sweet and soft as he remembers from minutes ago. 

“Can I ask you something?” She pushes him away, her hands on his chest. 

“Anything,” He answers without thinking and it’s the truth, too. He’s ready to crack his chest open, even if he fears the question. 

“Is that your cat?”

Only now does he notice her gaze falling to the door of his bedroom. A big grey cat is sitting there, waiting. 

Dean laughs, lowers his forehead to her shoulder, and places a kiss on her neck before he gets back on his feet. 

“Yeah,” He grins and walks to the cat to pick it up, the cat immediately relaxes in Dean’s arm, rubbing his head on Dean’s chest, “I swear, worst decision ever because he never does what he’s told. He knows that he’s not allowed in the bedroom.” He pets the cat’s head and it starts to purr.

He walks back to the bed where she’s sitting, and even though Dean doesn’t want his cat to be in his bed, the cat does it anyway, jumps from his arms into her lap. 

“Well, hello there,” She smiles and strokes the cat’s head, “You kinda saved me, you know that?” 

“Did he now?” Dean raises an eyebrow and takes a seat next to her, before he leans back and makes himself comfortable on his side, bracing himself on his elbow. The cat moves from her lap to lay between them on the bed, clearly enjoying the attention they’re giving him.

“Yeah, he kinda averted the attention to him,” She says, stroking the cat underneath its chin.

Dean laughs, “That’s what he can do best.”

“Never thought you’d be a cat person, though,” She’s grinning at Dean.

“Me neither,” He states matter of factly, “He’s a stray I’ve met in Afghanistan. I didn’t know how he got there, to be honest. The place was remote as can be. But I found him wandering around camp. At first I thought that he was a suicide animal and there might be some explosives attached to him but it turns out that he was just hungry and craved attention. When it was time to leave, I knew that he probably won’t survive since nobody was going to come back to feed him, so I made some arrangements for him to come back with me.”

Y/N stays silent, as if she wants to let his words sink in. 

“You have a good heart, you know that?” She’s smiling but there’s a tint of sadness to it, he can see. She clears her throat before she asks, “Does he have a name?”

Dean cringes at that. He knew that the question would come, knew that he can’t possibly keep the name of the cat from her, no matter how much he would want to. 

“Uh…” He’s blushing before he mumbles, “Cuddles,” 

“What?” 

“Cuddles.” He says it louder while squeezing his eyes shut.

“Cuddles?” She’s laughing, and even if Dean feels a little embarrassed, he can’t help but to laugh with her. 

“Shut up, Sam named him,” Dean watches as the cat makes his way back to her lap when it hears her calling its name, “I wanted to give him a more manly name, like Hulk, or I don’t know, Thor, but he wouldn’t listen to any of them and Sam figured that he likes to cuddle so Cuddles it was and it’s the only name he listens to.”

“That’s a cute name,” She’s still laughing as she strokes the back of the cat's ear.

“Yeah, yeah,” Dean huffs, “He’s earned a treat in saving you, too.”

At the word, the cat gets up from her lap and jumps down the bed, running out into the living room. 

“Yeah, you go wait, I’ll be right there to feed you,” Dean calls out to the cat before he turns to her and speaks in a low tone, “He knows the word  _ treat _ .”

“Oh, I bet he does,” She turns to smile at Dean. 

The pink in her cheek is still there, and Dean knows that they should probably get going, knows that Cas is waiting for him but Dean just can’t help it. It’s like he can’t get enough of her and it should scare him, he knows that too. Yet, it feels so good that he ignores all the terrifying feelings in his gut to tug her down to him and kiss her again. 

She’s lying next to him on his bed and he’s braced on his elbow next to her, one hand lazily stroking her face, careful not to hurt the bruised cheek as he bends down to kiss her again, tastes coffee and mint on her tongue. 

After some time, they were rudely interrupted by Cuddle’s meows at the door and she chuckles against his lips. 

“We should go,” He whispers, and steals another kiss before he pushes himself up onto his feet and extends a hand to help her up. “Even though I really don’t want t—”

“—No, I get it. I should get home, get into something more comfortable than a torn dress either.”

“Yeah, go get your things and I’ll feed the cat,” Dean walks out and leaves her to get ready.

“It has a name!” He can hear her calling out after him, “It’s Cuddles!” There’s giggling and Dean smirks.

“I know! Doesn’t mean that I like to say it. I’m only calling him by name when he’s in trouble,” He calls back, laughing to himself as he takes out the cat treat from the pantry.


	11. CH11

Turns out that she got ready before he could even give the cat its whole treat. All her belongings are stuffed into a clutch bag and that’s when Dean remembered that he kind of dragged her out of the Roadhouse the evening before, with the intention of sobering her up but she ended up getting more drunk.

He just knows that he won’t make the same mistake again. 

The getting her more drunk part, not the whisking her away part — that part he would do again, over and over.

But he’s also glad that he made the mistake, because after all, it kind of turned out well for him; apart from her almost getting kidnapped — which he is still very salty about — but he pushes the thought out of his mind, doesn’t want to get riled up now because he still needs to drive her home and how weird would it be for her if he is his grumpy old self during the whole drive.

_ What a fucking messed up life _ , Dean thinks. And there’s the terrifying feeling in his guts again. One that says that he shouldn’t drag her into it. He tries to bottle up this feeling too, because the other feelings — the good ones, the fucking great ones — outweighs the bad at the moment.

He stops her before they get out of his apartment, finds a hoodie by the door and wraps it around her before pulling up the zipper. Dean presses his lips into a grin when he sees her disappearing inside of it. His heart jumps at how cute she looks in the oversized clothing, wishes a little that she would wear more of his clothes. 

There’s something about seeing a girl in his clothes that turns him on very much, Dean can’t lie about that, and he thinks that maybe something isn’t wired right in his brain. But that’s really just wishful thinking on his part, doesn’t really want to keep his hopes up too high because after all, they haven’t spoken about all the shit that went down yet. He’s kind of terrified that she’d run once she knows. But he’s also terrified that she’d stay despite all of it. He just can’t make up his fucking mind, because both scenarios are quite scary to him.

As soon as they get into the elevator, Dean feels the urge to touch her, to be close to her, so he holds her up against the mirrored wall inside the closed space, kisses himself stupid on her as they made their way down to the parking garage. It’s like he really can’t get enough of her, can not get enough of the butterflies fluttering around in his chest when he holds her near. Can’t get enough of the sweet taste of her lips, wondering if her pussy tastes just as sweet. 

_ Must be so much sweeter _ , he guesses.

And he wants a taste of that too. Wants to spread her out on a bed, eat her out so she would scream his name. Wants her pliant and blissed out, wants her begging him for more. He’s painfully hard just thinking about it.

Y/N digs her blunt nails into the back of his scalp, pulls him so much closer and he’s so fucking hard he could burst, is thankful of his sweat pants because they leave him more legroom. 

And Dean actually wants to. Wants to take her right here, right now, doesn’t even care if they’re in public but he knows he can’t, because there’s just no time. Time is what he would need, though. Because he’d love to take his time with her, wants to take his time to draw out the moans and whimpers from her lips, wants to make actual love to her, not some quick fuck in a goddamn elevator. 

But it has to wait and he knows that too, because the elevator dings and they’ve reached the garage. 

He lets her back down, watches her adjust her dress and his hoodie with pink cheeks and spit slick lips, kisses her forehead, feeling her melt against him. He takes her hand and pulls her along with him. 

Dean pushes the button of the car key he grabbed from the box and there’s a big black SUV beeping and blinking up in the distance. They make their way across the lot and he opens the door for her, waits for her to hop in. 

“I...uh..” Y/N tugs at the hoodie and looks kind of uncomfortable.

Dean raises an eyebrow, “What?”

“The leather looks expensive, do you maybe have a towel laying around in your trunk?”

“What?” He frowns, not really understanding where she’s going with this, knows for sure that there’s no towel in there, except for maybe some heavy guns and a baseball bat.

“I’m..um.. I’m kinda wet down there,” She mumbles and it’s hard for him to hear because she lowers her head and for some reasons, she can’t look him in the eye.

“Sweetheart, speak up. You’re what?” 

She lifts her face to look him in the eye then, her cheeks flushed and redder than before, if that’s even possible, “I’m not wearing any panties and I tend to get a little wet, alright? Well, a lot wet, actually, and…” She gestures with her hand, pointing her fingers at the interior of the car, “I don’t wanna ruin your seat!”

Dean surges forward, and kisses her. It’s his way of trying to tell her that it’s okay. That she doesn’t have to be embarrassed. And he curses and groans into the kiss because of how painful his cock aches at the revelation.

“Use the hoodie, it’s alright,” He whispers, resting his hand at the back of her neck, their nose still touching.

There’s a crease in between her eyebrows as Dean stands back up straight to give her room in order to be able to take off the hoodie. She folds it and places it on the seat, looking back at him with the crease still there between her eyebrows, and for the first time, Dean can actually and finally kiss it away. 

Making his way to his side, he climbs in, settling into the seat and starts the engine. He looks over to her, sees her fastening her seatbelt before she tugs at her dress underneath her ass and adjusts his hoodie so that it’s right beneath her apparent wetness. A shudder runs down Dean’s spine when he thinks of it and his cock is complaining harshly in his pants. 

“You’re fucking killing me,” He mumbles, and she grins back a cocky grin, the sort of grin he usually only sees on himself. He licks his lips, swallows hard before he speaks, “What happened to your nice panties?”

“Oh my god, you did see them,” She throws her head back, closes her eyes and covers her face with the palm of her hands. 

“Duh, I changed you, remember?” They make their way out of the building and Dean swerves into the traffic. 

“Jo ripped them apart, they were literally hanging around my ankles, not much use there, are they?”

Dean lets out a broken sound at the vivid image she painted for him. He thinks that she most likely wasn’t wearing panties when he reached the apartment, probably wetted his bed and the covers he placed her on, and now she’s dripping onto his hoodie. 

_ This fucking girl _ , seriously. 

“I’ll get you new panties,” He says, and wonders if she’d let him go with her to buy new ones.

“You really don’t have to. They’re quite expensive, I admit, but it’s not like I need a lot of fancy panties.”

“No, let me. They’re panties. How expensive can a scrap of fabric be anyway?” He raises an eyebrow, looks briefly to her and back to the traffic as they head onto the highway.

“Oh, you poor sheltered boy, you have no idea do you?” 

Dean really has no clue, never had to buy them for anyone, only wore them once, but that’s a story for another time and he doesn’t want to scare her away before he can even come clean with more important things. But seriously, how expensive can a piece of fabric be? Especially the one she was wearing last night. They weren’t exactly covering a lot, but they still left enough for the imagination. 

“Well, the only way to find out is when I come and get those new panties with you,” He winks at her, feeling cocky all of a sudden. And Jesus, she really blushes so sweetly.

  
  
  


***

  
  
  


Y/N insisted on him to stop at the Roadhouse so she could get her car, and now Dean’s driving behind her because he wants to make sure that she gets home alright. It’s the least he can do really, and it’s also some kind of a self service because it’ll ease his mind. 

He wonders if he can spare a man or two to watch her, thinks that maybe he should tell her the truth first, kind of knows that when she’ll find out that she’s been watched, all hell will break loose. He decides not to push his luck with her, not now when they’re right at the start of something that could be really good.

Dean still doesn’t know what he’s going to tell Ellen, though. Wonders how long he can hide the fact from her that her daughter is a fucking double agent and wanted to bring his whole damn family down, which also includes Ellen and the Roadhouse if he’s being honest, but Dean’s not sure if Ellen will see it that way. Jo’s her daughter after all, and apparently, blood is thicker than water.

While he drives behind Y/N, he can’t help but glance over at the hoodie she’d left behind. He sees a slightly bigger, darker patch on the already black hoodie. Dean groans out in frustration, she wasn’t lying about being wet, was she?

_ Fucking hell.  _

He grips his steering wheel just a little tighter and tries to calm his nerves, willing his erection to go away — and fails miserably. 

_ What are you? Fucking Sixteen?! _ He curses at himself, doesn’t understand his own body anymore. She’s fucked him up real bad and the funny thing is, that he doesn’t even mind it, what does that say about him, really?

When they arrived, she thanked him for driving her home, but Dean can’t be shaken off that easily. 

“Come on, I’ll bring you to the door,” He ushers her into the building, shouldering at her until he feels her budging.

They walked up three flights of stairs and he waits as she fumbles with the keyhole. She seems nervous and he doesn’t really know why. Is she hiding a boyfriend in there he doesn’t know about?

_ Shit. _

A boyfriend.

He never thought about that. 

The thought had literally never crossed his fucking mind.

Wouldn’t have thought of her to be someone who would do something like that, and Dean’s actually never been wrong with reading people. Maybe though, his brain made an exception because it’s not capable of reading people and feeling things at the same fucking time.

And now he feels stupid.

“Here we go,” She pushes the door open and he lets her go in first, in case there really is a boyfriend, which of course, he didn’t dare to ask her about. 

Dean steps in behind her, is kind of relieved that the apartment seems to be empty, “Sweetheart, can you tell me if everything is like it was when you left here yesterday?”

She frowns but looks around, shrugs when she turns back to face him, “Yeah, why?”

He doesn’t answer her, instead he takes a look around himself, but of course he wouldn’t know if something would be out of place because he’s never fucking been here before. 

Her apartment is modest and small, smaller than his living room, if Dean has to guess and compare. A stark contrast to his apartment which is the complete opposite in every way. It doesn’t mean that it doesn’t look cozy. He thinks that he’d take the apartment, because it’s really kind of cute, and he’d take the girl living here too.

There are two more doors. One right at the entrance, which he has a strong feeling is a bathroom. The other one is off behind the living room, which leads to her bedroom, he supposes. 

“You mind checking out your bedroom for me, Y/N?” He asks as he walks to the bathroom. He goes in and pulls the shower curtain to the side, just to be thorough.

“Everything’s fine.” She calls out from her bedroom and he’s at the door as she hastily pushes some papers under her bed with her feet. 

Something he’s not allowed to see, probably. He’s brushing it off, even though he feels like she’s hiding something from him. He’s not the right guy to talk anyway, because he’s hiding so much more from her. He hopes not for long though, because if he wants to keep her, he knows that he needs to come clean. And who knows if she still would want to stay after she knows? He wouldn’t blame her if she would want to run. Would maybe ask her to take him with her because God knows, he doesn’t really want to stay either.

He feels relieved though. Relieved that no one was here yet. Which means that they don’t know where she lives, and it makes him wonder if anyone else apart from Jo knows that one of his weak spot is her. He has a strong feeling that they don’t know yet, Jo probably wanted to serve her on a fucking silver platter. He gets angry again just thinking about it.

Dean takes in her bedroom from the safe distance of the door, doesn’t want to intrude which is weird because she’s been in his, but also he feels comfortable with her and the jury’s really still out if she feels the same about him being here. He notices one occupied nightstand. Sees that there’s no trace of men’s clothing in the room, or in the apartment for that matter, breathes fucking relief but subtly, doesn’t want her to know what’s going through his head, obviously.

“Good,” He nods as she walks out to join him, “When’s your next shift?” 

She’s taken off her shoes in between entering and now, because she’s standing short again. Doesn’t make her any less cute, not like he expected anything else of his feelings, to be honest.

“Tomorrow. Ellen texted me that she’s closing for one more night. Her date apparently took her upstate.”

“Okay, that’s good. You just rest, alright?” He walks to the door, knowing that he’s invading her space and the truth is, that he really should get going. Cas is probably going to run out of patience soon.

“I will,” She forces a tired smile, and walks behind him, “Do I tell her about Jo?”

Dean turns around, “No,” He shakes his head, “No, I’ll do it. Don’t mention anything to her. Go to work like you’d normally do. You don’t know anything if it should come up.”

“Okay,” Y/N’s gaze falls to her toes. 

“Any chance I can persuade you to quit your job?” He chuckles, plays it off as if he’s joking, but really he’s not, “I’d pay you more and all you have to do is take care of my cat when I’m not around.”

“Your cat has a name,” She grins, raising an eyebrow and Dean knows that she wants him to say it. 

“Jesus… okay, Cuddles, his name is Cuddles, are you happy now?” He laughs playfully.

“Yeah, but stop it!” She punches his chest and laughs heartily, “I really like my job.”

“I know,” The corner of his lips curve up, “Cuddles really likes you though,”

She doesn't say anything, frowns a little because she doesn’t get where Dean wants to go with that. And honestly, he doesn’t know it either. All he knows is that he’d like to have her around him, at all times if possible. He’s really trying hard not to go all possessive on her but given the circumstances, it would calm his heart if he’d know where she is at all times. He knows that’s an utopian thought and yeah, he’s not gonna do it, no matter how much he wants to put a 24/7 security on her sweet ass.

“Thought so,” Dean twists at the doorknob and turns around, “If you change your mind, let me know, yeah?” 

She nods with a smirk and when Dean wants to leave, she grabs at his shirt, pulling him down and kisses him. Her arms fly around his neck and he holds her around her waist. It’s good. So good. But it doesn’t make it any easier for him to leave now.

“I need to go,” He mumbles into the kiss, sucks at her lip and lets it out with a pop just for him to dive right into the kiss again.

“Don’t,” She whispers as she nibbles at his bottom lip. “You could stay.”

“Fuck,” He curses, kisses her deeper, harder, wants for her to remember him just by a kiss, “You’re fucking killing me for real.” 

She giggles into his mouth. Such a fucking sweet sound. It goes straight to his cock, that’s still fucking hard. He can’t even remember the last time he’s been hard for so long without getting any release.

“Baby, I need to leave, I’ll see you later, okay?” He parts from her, is a little out of breath. His chest heaves and he ducks down once more, kisses her nose, her eyebrow, her forehead. 

“Okay,” Y/N pouts, and that’s not fucking fair. He’s not prepared to see the pout. 

He lifts his hand to her face, thumbs at her lips, “Stop that,”

“Stop what?” She asks, but goes right back to pouting and Dean can’t help but think that she fucking knows how to bring him down.

“That damn pout of yours, I swear,” He thumbs at her bottom lip, paints it along her pout. 

She parts her lips, teethes at the pad of his thumb before she sucks at it, taking it deeper, and Dean knows he should be ashamed of the sound that’s coming out of his throat but he just can’t bring himself to care.

He steals another kiss, it’s hard and fast, before he can finally tear himself away. Dean knows that if he doesn’t go now, he will never be able to.

“Be good,” He says and feels a little guilty for dashing down the stairs as quickly as he did. Feels guilty to leave her pliant and spit slick, but he really needs to go and take care of business. 

_ Fucking business. _

Dean gets into his car and runs the pad of his thumb that she’d been sucking at along his own spit slick lips. 

_ Fuck. _

Turning up the music, he makes his way back, and tries to get himself into the right mindset to face Jo.


	12. CH12

Dean calls Sammy on the way to the bunker as a way of distraction and also to update Sam on things. Sammy always wants Dean to update him on what’s happening, even though he’s out of the organization (because Dean wanted it that way) and Sam damn well knows that he shouldn’t know too much about all the things anyway, but he’s fucking stubborn. Dean sometimes wonders where his brother's stubbornness comes from.

To Dean’s surprise, Sam wasn’t really shocked about the Jo thing, he’s more interested in how Y/N ended up at Dean’s place and what’s happening between them. Dean couldn’t answer the questions even if he wanted to, mainly because he doesn’t know it himself. It’s all too new, and he still needs to adjust himself to feel all the things he feels. Doesn’t mean that it’s bad. It’s quite good actually, maybe too good, too.

As soon as he arrives, Dean storms through the bunker door and runs down the winding stairs. His steps echoed in the large space.

“Where is she?” He shouts out, his voice deep and loud as he hurries down where he knows she is. 

And that’s the thing, Dean  _ knows  _ exactly where Cas put her, it’s just courtesy of him to inform Cas so the other man can stop him from doing something stupid once he gets to Jo. And boy does he want to do something stupid, something his hands were itching to do since Y/N called him from Jo’s phone.

“Dean!” Cas calls out, breaking into a run to keep up with him. 

“Did she talk?” Dean growls, walking swiftly through winding corridors.

Cas has a hard time keeping up, almost trips but can save himself gracefully, “No, didn’t say a word,”

“That’s what I thought,” Dean arrives at the door to the dungeon and pushes it open, revealing Jo. The blonde woman is bound to a chair, her face bruised and swollen, and Dean guesses that Cas also has something to with it, and it wasn’t only Y/N who did this to her. He can’t help but feel a little proud of his girl. Well, not yet  _ his _ , but it already feels awfully like she  _ is _ .

His grip tightens around the gun he grabbed from his glove compartment before he entered the bunker, and he draws it from his holster as he hurriedly strides towards the chair Jo’s sitting on. He stops a mere inch from the blonde woman’s face, making her stare into the barrel of his Colt with wide eyes.

“What the fuck did you want from her, huh? Tell me, Jo!” Dean’s breathing hard, his heart is pounding out of his chest, adrenaline surges through his veins.

“Dean, don’t,” Cas says, “I mean, not now. Later, maybe.”

Jo chuckles, “Yeah, listen to Cas, Dean.”

Dean knows that Cas is right. He wishes Cas wasn’t though. 

Hesitantly, Dean lowers his gun, puts it back into its holster and walks around behind Jo, his fingers grab a handful of hair at the top of her head and pulls her head back forcefully, making Jo whimper in pain. He lowers his face to speak next to her ear, “What the fuck did you want her for?” 

“Ah,” Jo gasps, “You always liked it rough, didn’t you, Dean?”

“Fuck you,” He hisses, releases her head with a push, and walks around to the front again, “Just know something, alright? I really hate hitting women, and to be honest, I don’t think I ever did hit a woman in my life. But you? You really fucking deserve it.” He slaps her across her face with his left hand. It wasn’t that hard either. Not yet. He can’t go in too hard, he needs room to be able to step up his game.

Jo bites her lip in the process, blood drips down her chin, dropping onto her already stained shirt. She looks back to Dean, and he can see the corner of her lips curving up to a smirk, despite having just been slapped. She’s a feisty little bitch, he should have known. 

“Since when is it all about the girl? It’s not about me being a snitch anymore, is it?” Jo spits onto the floor, a mixture of blood and saliva. It almost hits Cas’ shoe who’s standing next to Dean, and as a protective measure, Cas takes a step back. “Oh Dean, what happened to you? You getting soft, ain’tcha? You hit me because of a damn girl you didn’t even fuck?”

Dean surges forward, places his hands around Jo’s throat and squeezes as he lowers his head and whispers into her ear, “You try that again, I won’t have a problem putting a bullet through your fucking head, Jo.”

“Uhh… Kinky,” Jo answers, her voice strained but still, she tries to talk, tries to rile Dean up, he knows, “Can you be as rough with her as you were with me, huh? I can imagine that she’s more a vanilla kinda girl. You’ll bore yourself to death with her, Dean.”

Dean chokes her more, making her look him in the eye and she’s already zoning out by the lack of air that reaches her brain. 

“The worst mistake I ever made, — and believe me, I regretted it every day — was letting you talk me into fucking you and not just once. It’s all on me, I get that,” Dean’s grip on her loses quickly to make her come back to her senses so she can still hear him, “And to tell you the truth? I didn’t even enjoy it, and your screams were a turn off. All I wanted was for you to shut your damn fucking mouth. Why do you think I fucked your face for so long and barely fucked you for real? Why do you think I’ve never once taken an item of clothing off? Because I wanted to get out of there as quickly as I could!”

Cas snorts out loud from the back.

“See? Cas knows what I’m talking about because I’m sure that you did the same to him too, tried to fuck your way up, didn’t you, Jo? And when it didn’t work out the way you wanted it to, you turned to Lucifer.” Dean lets go of her throat, letting her catch her breath. Jo coughs, her eyes are teary. 

She spits more blood onto the floor, “Fuck you!”

“What did he pay you to manipulate me, Jo, huh? Tell me how many cocks did you suck to land yourself a gig for him?” Dean snickers, “Did he promise you a place on his right side? You fucking know that if he wanted to, he could just sell you, right?”

Jo looks at him, and Dean could see the anger in her eyes, but there’s also something else — madness. Since when did she change? It’s like he doesn’t even see the real Jo any more, that’s not the girl Dean used to know.

“One thing is pretty clear. You won’t get out of this bunker.” Dean’s voice is low and steady.

Jo coughs some more before she returns to her poker face, “Ah, I like it here, you know. A fucking bunker! Why did no one tell me about it? You didn’t even trust me enough?”

“And we were right we didn’t,” Cas adds dryly. 

Jo starts to laugh, “You guys really think I’m the only snitch, don’t you? It’s so cute of you.” 

“What do you mean?” Dean raises his eyebrow. 

“What I said. There’s more than me. Lucifer just pays way more, you know? And I didn’t even have to suck cock for it!” She looks at Dean and damn winks. 

He slaps her again, harder this time. “You fucking greedy bitch,” 

“Jo, I would suggest that you talk or you’ll be dead. I highly doubt that you really want to die. And if it’s not us, then Lucifer for sure will kill you if he knows that we kept you and you talked to us, even if you won’t say jack squat.” Cas comes to stand next to Dean. 

“I need something before I talk, you fucking bastards!”

Dean looks at Cas and sighs, “Yeah, I agree. I need a fucking drink!” 

He has a feeling that it’s only the beginning of a long fucking evening. 

  
  
  


_____________________________

  
  
  
  


After Dean had left, Y/N dashes into her bedroom and grabs the case files she pushed under her bed to hide it from Dean.

_ Jesus _ , how stupid of her to leave them lying around while she was out. 

She hoped that Dean didn’t notice. She actually didn’t want him to come up here at all but he was so determined and she’s weak, she knows. Weak because she too, didn’t want to part from him. 

These fucking feelings, seriously. It’s going to jeopardize the whole operation, she just knows that they will. She’s never been so careless before, her line of work doesn’t allow that. She’s usually very professional. 

_ Usually.  _

That’s before she met him. 

Maybe there’s a way out? 

Y/N sighs because she knows that there isn’t. At least not one that would leave both of them happy. Perhaps she could take that fall? Perhaps she could somehow get out of all this so that Dean can go on with whatever he’s doing? She’s sure now that he has a good heart and the vengeance she felt she needed… it’s not there anymore. It wasn’t Dean’s fault that her father is dead, she sees that now.

She cleans out her room as best as she can and hides the things she doesn’t want people — Dean in particular — to see into her safe and locks it up before she looks around with her hands braced on her hips, admiring the work she did in cleaning up her apartment. 

Sending a text out to Linda after, she arranges for a meeting but before doing that, she’s going to take another shower. One that she needs because she’s all sticky down there and it would calm her heart, maybe it’ll also ease the aching between her thighs. 

In the shower, Y/N can’t help but think of Dean, smirks to herself, and blushes because how can she not. They kissed, and fuck, if it wasn’t nice she doesn’t know what is. Her heart flutters the more she thinks of him and instead of the water washing away the stickiness, her body just adds even more of that sticky sweet thing for her to wash away. 

While she washes herself down there, she braces her foot on the bathtub, is thankful for having a combined shower/bathtub thing because it makes being naughty in the shower so much easier. 

Y/N carefully slips a finger in, moans a little at how good it feels. With her other hand, she uses her showerhead, aiming it at her clit as she probes at her entrance with another finger. She massages her clit with the showerhead while she fucks herself on her two fingers, she never dared to use three, thinks it might be too much. Her two fingers stretch her just enough and she moans as the water stream hits the right place. She pants and closes her eyes, thinks of Dean, of his lips on her, of his big hand around her, of his fucking big cock inside of his sweats that she felt against her thighs. 

She can’t help but wonder if he would fit, kind of guesses that she needs to prep herself if she wants to accommodate the whole of him. Her legs start to tremble as she comes with a loud moan and she bites down on her bottom lip as she feels the flush of her cheek. Is a little ashamed of herself, ashamed that she came with Dean on her mind, can’t lie about that because it’s a first for her. The first time she ever thought about anyone and not just let the overwhelming lust take over when she does it. Not that she’s doing much of it in the first place.

She debates on taking a nap after her shower, but knows that if she would fall asleep now, that she’s mostly going to sleep through her alarm, which would also mean that she would sleep through the meeting she should be having with Linda and there’s no way that she can miss that one. 

  
  
  


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Cas follows Dean out of the dungeon, leaving Jo behind who screams for both of them to come the fuck back but the voice is cut off — when she’s about to throw in some more profanities — when the door slams close.

They walked back into the library together, wordlessly.

Dean goes straight for the little bar he had once set up since they made the bunker their HQ, pouring two fingers full of whiskey into a tumbler and downs them straight before he pours another three fingers while Cas just watches. He looks back to see the blue-eyed man watching him and Dean raises his eyebrow in question. “You want a drink?” 

“No, no,” Cas says and pulls the closest chair to sit down, waits for Dean to join him. 

“Ugh,” Dean sighs as his heavy body thumps down into a chair across from Cas.

“What a day, huh?”

“Tell me about it,” Dean takes another sip, squints a little at the burn but welcomes it nonetheless.

“What do we do now?” Cas asks, pressing the fingers of his hands together and releasing them like it’s something that calms him down. “Do we keep her alive? Do we treat her like all the others?”

Dean let Cas’ questions sink in, taking another sip and pinches the bridge of his nose.

“No,” Dean says then, “Yeah, no. We keep her alive. For the time being at least. I want someone with her during the day. We talk to her, we make her rethink her stance. When I look at her, I don’t see the Jo I know. I see some madwoman. Maybe we can get the old Jo to come back.”

Cas nods his agreement. “What if she doesn’t come around?”

“We take one day at a time, Cas. We have to try. I owe her family that much.”

“So, who do you wanna put on her?”

Dean huffs before taking another gulp of his drink. “You, me. Sam. Even though I don’t like Sam to be involved at all, so we only ask him if we really have to.”

“That’s not enough to cover the days.”

“Yeah, I know. I just don’t trust anyone with the information about this bunker.” Dean licks his lips. “Not until I know if there are other fucking traitors around. We’ll get Rufus, Bobby, Inias, Donatello too. Maybe Jess and Rowena can come around to keep her company as well.”

Dean basically just counted down people who already know about the existence of the bunker and he knows that he could trust them to keep what happens to Jo a secret to the rest of the organization and the outside world.

“Sounds like a plan,” Cas says, pushes his chair back with a creaking sound that makes the hair on the back of Dean’s neck stand up. “Let’s start by fixing her up and then we can start on talking some sense into her.”

“Yeah, let’s.” Dean chuckles because Cas is all enthusiastic. It’s to cheer him up, Dean knows that too.

  
  
  


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Y/N’s back in her apartment when she realizes that she doesn’t even have food and forgot to do some shopping on her way back. She opens one pantry after the other, finds coffee and cereals but there’s no milk to eat it with and she can’t drink another cup of coffee if she doesn’t want for her eyes to vibrate. Stuffing her mouth full of plain cereal, she chews and walks to her room to change into her pajamas. It’s only 7 PM but she feels like she’s been awake for days and her body is sore. 

She was so, so close to telling Linda to call it off but then Linda was rambling on about how they have intel about a big moving of narcotics in a couple of weeks time, and she was sure that it’s Dean. Linda needed her to find out when that’s going to happen, and seriously, how could she not do it? She owes Linda that much, she guesses. 

Linda had asked about her cheek and she lied that it was her walking around the bar in the dark and hit her face on the door. Linda bought her sorry excuse and Y/N was relieved.

However, Y/N steered the conversation away when Linda suddenly asked how it’s going with Dean and if she had made any progress. 

If Linda only knew… 

Y/N’s not going to say anything though, knows that if she tells Linda that she knows where Dean lives or any of the other things that happened, Linda will blow it off and orders for her to go right back, and she doesn’t really want for it to happen. If someone calls the operation off, she’s the one to do it and it should be on her to decide if she wants to go back at all.

Right now, Y/N’s not sure if she fits into her old life anymore, if she would be happy at all once she goes back. It all started as a way of vengeance but it became so much more. Something she wasn’t really prepared for. In hindsight, nothing could have prepared her for falling… No, she’s not going to go there.

Now she’s back in her apartment, kind of misses Dean a little but he’s obviously busy because he hasn’t replied to the text she sent an hour ago.

She settles into her bed, opens her laptop, and logs on to Netflix. Maybe watching something will distract her from her growling stomach and her heavy heart.

Browsing through the lists of series she once started but never finished, she gets distracted by the buzzing of her phone.

_ D: Sorry it took me so long to answer. You okay? _

_ Y/N: Don’t worry about it. Yeah, I’m still tired though. Going to bed now. _

_ D: What are you wearing? _

Her eyes widened at the straightforwardness of his text.

_ Y/N: What? _

_ D: I’m really just kidding, sweetheart. Did you eat anything? _

_ Y/N: A handful of cereal. But don’t worry. I’m more tired than hungry. _

_ D: Just FYI. Someone will knock at your door in about 40 minutes.  _

_ Y/N: What? Who? _

_ D: You’ll see. Now you rest, okay? Miss you. _

There she goes again, her cheeks feel hotter with every thudding of her heart.

_ Y/N: Miss you too. Good night Dean _

_ D: Good night, sweetheart _

She smiles and places her phone back onto her nightstand as she settles in her bed. She couldn’t help but wonder how it would be to fall asleep next to Dean. He’s so big and broad and he makes her feel safe and she curses herself for being too drunk last night to really enjoy his presence. If he was in the same bed with her at all? She tries so hard to remember something but the memories stay away from her brain.

It’s exactly 40 minutes later that someone knocks at her door. She opens up to Bobby, holding a bag full of greasy but delicious smelling food with a bright smile on his face. 

“Dean worried about you and told me to bring you something to eat. I didn’t know you’d be alone so I guess you’ll have enough food to last you a week now.” Bobby’s laughing because the bag is stuffed full with a dozen containers at least.

“Well, do you want to come in and eat with me?” She asks, opens the door wider for Bobby but the old man waves her off.

“It’s madness in my shop, darling,” He lets her take the bag from his hand. “I’ll see you soon, alright?” Bobby says and leaves, but not without giving her a bone-crushing hug to remember him by.

  
  


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It’s almost 2 AM when Dean’s back home in his apartment. Jo’s lips are still sealed shut and maybe they would have cracked her open if Dean would have been a little kinder to her, but he was just too butthurt that she hurt his girl and also too exhausted and it wouldn’t have needed much for Dean to put a bullet through her skull. 

Cas was aware of Dean’s distress and he was the one who suggested that Dean went home and maybe take care of Y/N. Cas would follow up with the people and see who can be available the first thing in the morning and Dean’s thankful for that. Thankful to have Cas, who kind of grounds him. 

Cas didn’t put into his equation that Y/N’s not here and is most likely already sound asleep — in her own fucking bed.

Dean peels himself off his sweats and shirt, thinks about taking a shower when he feels something rub against his legs. 

“Hey, buddy. You hungry?” Dean says, smiles a little as Cuddles nudges against his skin. “You know you’re not allowed in here,” Dean picks the cat up and walks out of his bedroom, only to notice the stench smell now, “Shit, forgot to clean up your litter box this morning, didn’t I?” 

Cuddles meows and jumps from Dean’s arm to walk to his food tray and Dean pours food into it while the cat swallows with pleasure. He changes the water for the cat before he makes his way to the litter box, wrinkling his nose as he cleans it out.

*

  
Dean wakes with a gasp, cold sweat beads on his forehead. For a brief moment, he was back at being shot at, loud noises around him, he breathed in dust that burned in his lungs.

He risks a glance at the clock, sees that it’s 2.44 AM. He had barely slept ten minutes.

Getting up, he gets into a pair of new sweats and zips a fresh hoodie up around his body. The cat looks surprised when he sees Dean walking out of his bedroom. At first, Dean tries to ignore the questioning glare but then he could feel the gaze following as he walks to the front door.

“Stop looking at me like that,” He says, slips into his sports shoes at the entrance. “I’m not doing anything stupid.”

Dean gets up, and grabs a key to his SUV, and steals a glance at the cat before he opens the door. The cat was still looking at him grumpily.

“You know, sometimes I really think that you should go and live with Sam. You two would get along just perfectly.”

He steps out the door and locks it behind him. 

Before Dean knows it, he’s on the road.


	13. Chapter XIII

Dean’s standing right in front of her apartment, didn’t really know how he got here. It’s like he was on autopilot as soon as he started driving and his subconscious led him here. He also didn’t really know why he thought it was a good idea to show up so late (or early). All he knew was that he wanted to see her. Which is really stupid — probably. 

Yeah, no.

It is _really_ stupid because she’s most definitely asleep. It’s stupid, because he can’t even bring himself to stay a night away from her, what the fuck happened with his willpower, his self control? It’s fucking stupid, because he’s fucking weak and feels things that will most likely — most definitely — ruin him. 

And there he was telling his cat that he won’t do anything stupid. He chuckles to himself at his stupidity, wonders if she would think he’s weird for talking to his cat at all, while he gathers all his strenghts and wills his heart to stop beating so fucking fast.

Dean knocks.

Soft. Not nearly loud enough like he usually does.

He squints his eyes close and waits. He wants for her to wake up but also he doesn’t want for her to be scared? It doesn’t make any sense, he knows.

_Silence._

He wants to try again, doesn’t know if he really should. 

Dean sighs and rests his forehead against the door. 

_That was a really fucking stupid idea._

Another sigh. 

He’s trying to make a decision if he should try to knock again or leave, when the door flies open. Light spills out into the darkened staircase.

“Dean?” Y/N whispers, her voice low, full of sleep. She’s dressed in a shirt that’s loose around her shoulder and she wears some boy short panties. 

_God dammit_.

It shouldn’t turn him on as much as it does.

Her hair’s up, tucked into a bun and some strands fall loose around her ears. She yawns and it makes him feel guilty for showing up. Only a little, because _Jesus_ , he can’t stop looking at the stupidly cute thing in front of him. 

“‘M sorry,” He says, keeps his voice low, and he wants to say so much more but he couldn’t, didn’t know where to start, where to end. His thoughts are bumping together in his head all at once. Wants to spill out his thoughts and swallow them down at the same time.

Wordlessly, she opens the door wider for him to step in, and he’s thankful for that. Thankful that she doesn’t question his motives at all. She locks the door behind him when he’s inside.

He toes off his shoes at the door next to her pair of shoes that she probably wore today, and she waits for him, still not saying a word. 

Turning around, he faces her, sees her rub at her eyes and then she takes his hand and guides him towards her bedroom. 

His heart picks up speed when it should be calming down. 

It’s all because of her. He can’t catch a breath around her he once said to her, and really, it’s not a word of a lie.

Y/N turns off the light in the hallway, ushers him into her bedroom and lets go of his hand. She climbs back into her bed in the darkened room and he stands there, his feet rooted to the floor as he watches her. 

Moonlight shines through the crack of the blinds, granting him enough light to see her face, to see the way she’s tangled under her sheets.

_What a fucking beautiful sight._

“You coming?” She asks with a tired smile, yawning once more and it’s weird how adorable he thinks she looks when she yawns.

Dean swallows, pieces his brain together enough to form something coherent. “Oh… oh, yeah.” 

Zipping down his hoodie, he lets it fall to the floor before he gets rid of his sweat pants and socks, debates sleeping with a shirt on but he usually never sleeps with a shirt (just that one time when he let her sleep in his bed but that was because he didn’t want her to freak out when he was lying there only in his underwear), so he tosses it aside too, adding the shirt to the pile of clothes next to his feet.

He’s in his underwear and nothing else and he just watches her as she watches him. He’s hard too, can’t really help it, it’s the effect she has on him, it’s hard not to _be_ hard around her. He sees her biting down on her lip, sees her shiny slick spit on them. Dean reminds himself that thinking with his downstairs brain is not really what he came here for. 

“Scoot up,” He says playfully, takes a step closer and places a knee on the bed. 

“Whatchu wanna? Big spoon or little spoon?”

Dean laughs. “Just turn around,”

“Big spoon it is then. And there I thought I could be your jet pack.” She grins, turning around underneath the covers and faces the other way. 

“Maybe some other time, sweetheart.” He climbs in, feels the bed warmth surrounding his body and he moves closer, his arms hug her from behind, pulls her towards him, while he presses a kiss on the skin where her shirt slipped down her shoulder. 

“Lift your head,” He whispers against her throat and when she does, he places his other arm underneath her head, lets her use it like a pillow.

Dean inhales her scent, tilts his head back to kiss the back of her neck and then forward again, down to her shoulder. Her back melts against his chest, and he’s sure that she can feel how fast his heart is beating. Should maybe be a little ashamed of it. Ashamed, of how obvious his feelings are for her, but he can’t bring himself to care. 

They lie tangled together in silence for a while. Dean’s eyes are half closed, ready to be lulled into maybe another nightmare. 

“So, what is it that you do?” Y/N whispers quietly but Dean hears her bright and clear. Is a little taken aback by the question, too, because he didn’t think she’s awake enough to ask such a heavy question. She must be thinking about it, can’t get back to sleep without knowing an answer.

He has his lips on her shoulder, “I’m not really a good man,” He starts and pecks her skin, exhaling and inhaling as he thinks about _what_ he should tell her, and _how much_ he should tell her. “Illegal things mostly. My people deal with it, I kinda keep it all together. It’s straight business. I run a business that happens to be illegal and I meet with others who aren’t exactly legal to get good deals and occasionally, I get my hands dirty, too.”

“Like some kind of a mobster?”

Dean noses at the side of her neck, kisses her skin once more, just because he can. “I’d say that I’m a CEO in my organization, a great businessman, too, but yeah, you could call it that.”

“Gangster boss,” She hums.

“Are you scared of me?”

He could feel her backing her body up closer to him after the question and he holds her just a little tighter, breathes against her ear.

“Nuh-uh,” She says and maybe he’s imagining it but she pushes her ass up against his bulge.

“Nuh-uh?” He whispers, kisses her behind her ear, sucks in her earlobe and she whimpers. 

“No, you have a good heart.” 

Her hand flies behind his head, and Dean’s really not imagining it. She starts to grind against his cock.

There’s a groan he tries to hide. It’s a weird sound he makes, like something’s dying in his throat. He swallows, tries to calm down. 

“Sweetheart, I’m not here to fuck you. Stop trying,” He mumbles, and saying it is harder than he thought it would be. He doesn’t stop kissing down her neck and he’s a blink away from losing it himself if she keeps on going what she does.

“Why?” Y/N turns around in his grip and there it is, the fucking pout.

_God dammit._

Dean chuckles as he kisses cheek, her nose and her pout, sucking in her bottom lip before letting it out with a small pop. “Because that’s not the only thing I want from you. I don’t want you to think it is. That’s not what this is all about. We will, and god knows how much I want to, but not tonight, okay?” 

She buries her face in his chest, and Dean thinks it’s because she’s embarrassed, which is really the last thing he wants her to be. 

“Hey,” He says, his hand tucks her hair behind her ear, “Look at me,” 

She hesitates before she does: Her eyes are a little glassy, and he can’t really see it in the light but he can imagine that her face is flushed and she does the little cute thing where she bites down on her bottom lip. If that’s not a sight that sends his heart racing, he’d be lying.

He kisses her then. It’s sweet, tender, only tickling her a little with his tongue, his teeth scrapes along her bottom lip and she’s a fucking tease because she couldn’t stop wriggling her hips.

“Baby, you should stop.” He says, and he trails his hand down her spine, lets it rest on her ass cheek, squeezing a little for her to stop rubbing against him and she giggles.

Dean rolls his eyes and kisses her again, shutting her up and she grinds against him some more. Her lips are still tugged into a smile while she’s still biting that fucking bottom lip of hers but she doesn’t stop fucking grinding.

_This fucking girl, seriously._

Two can play at that game.

“Are you wet again, baby?” He kisses her nose, and she nods her head. He releases the grip on her ass cheek, sneaks his hand to the front of her underwear, “Can I check?” 

“Uh-huh.” She nods again with her lip between her teeth and it’s fucking killing him.

Dean’s hand finds the seam of her underwear and dibs his fingers in, trailing the pads of them down her front, letting out a shaky breath when he feels that she’s shaved bare, couldn’t help but wonder if she did that for him. He didn’t think she was the type to shave and honestly, he wouldn’t have cared one bit if she wasn’t because he’s sure that her pussy’s beautiful either way. He damn near groans when he reaches her pussy, parts her lips with his fingers, and damn, she’s not lying. She’s slippery wet.

“Fuck, sweetheart, you’re soaked,” His hands are shaking as he lets his fingers glide thorugh her slick. “Did I do this to you?” 

She’s back at burying her face in the crook of his neck, probably hiding her embarrassment. “Uh-huh,”

“Did you get yourself off today? Thinking of me?” He knows he probably shouldn’t ask. Knows that she’s a fucking good girl and probably doesn’t feel comfortable answering such a nasty question, but he can’t help it. He wants to know if she thinks about him the same way he thinks about her. 

She has her buried flat against his chest and he feels the hot air of her breath on his skin. He’s still rubbing her and she’s breathing hard. Her voice is muffled, speaking into his skin. “In the shower. You think it’s creepy that I did?”

_Jesus fucking Christ._

He curses himself now because even though he wanted to know he was not really prepared for the image she plants in his head.

He chuckles lightly, “Not creepy. You’re doing things to me, too.” 

Dean rubs her lazily and she wriggles some more. He feels the slick coat his fingers, and fuck, he’s hungry for a taste. 

Y/N looks up to him now, her lip still between her teeth. The room’s dark but her eyes are a shade darker and then she asks a question that catches him a little off guard. “Did you ever rub one off thinking of me?”

He should have seen it coming. 

“I did,” He kisses her forehead. “Exclusively.”

“How many times?”

He groans at that.

If he tells her the truth, she might think that he’s a creep. But also he decided yesterday that he’s not going to lie to her. He’s too old to keep up two different facades and since Jo already tried to kidnap her, the facade would soon crash down around him. So the only way is forward and he hopes that she’s not entirely freaked out.

He couldn’t help but blush a little himself. “Too many times. Since the day I met you.” 

“Wow.”

“Yeah.”

“That’s kinda creepy.” She says but she hugs him tight and kisses his throat, catches a little skin and sucks at his pulse point and fuck, his dick twitches in interest.

“I think we’ve established that we’re both kinda creepy, sweetheart.” He flickers his finger on her clit, making her whole body jerk up and he couldn’t hold back a laugh.

“Shit,” She pants and moves her hips in a figure eight, tries to get more friction and he likes that. Likes how desperate she is.

Desperate for him. 

He wants more of it. Wants her moaning and begging. Not to toot his own horn, but they’ll get there, he’s sure of it.

“Did Bobby bring you enough food?” He asks, averting the subject a little, but with a clear intention. 

“Yeah,” He feels her warm breath on his skin when she speaks, the little hitch in her voice when he rubs her just right, “Too much food, I was in a food coma after,” 

Dean flicks at her clit with his middle finger, making her yelp up and he grins, kisses the top of her head. “Good,”

“Did you eat?” She asks, her hips gyrating on his finger now, her voice trembles, “There’s still some leftovers.”

Dean moves a little, taking his hand out from her panties to look at his fingers. He can see them glistening in the dim light of the room. He also can’t help himself, licks at the pad of his middle finger, there’s a weird sound coming from his throat the moment her taste hits him. A sound he doesn’t usually hear himself make, and fuck, she’s really as sweet as he always imagined her to be. 

He holds his fingers out for her, and she takes the hint — _what a fucking good girl._ Her fingers wrap around his wrist and she sucks two of them in while looking him dead in the eye. 

His cock strains painfully in his underwear.

“‘M not hungry for food,” He grins, all bravado, and she must have sensed it because she let out a stutter of a moan that — he can’t lie — goes right where his cock is pulsing in his underpants.

“Yeah?” She answers him with that challenging tone of voice that makes him actually want to kiss her more just to shut her up, but he doesn’t.

Instead, he wrestles above her, pins her beneath him, kicks the covers to the end of the bed as he moves down her body. His hands find the hem of her shirt and push it up, revealing her chest.

“Fuck,” He mutters as he hunches above her and looks down at her tits.

His hand cups one of it, pinches her nipple between his thumb and index finger, making her arch her back and she gasps out in shock. Dean cups her tit in his palm, a handful, cutest tits he’s ever seen. 

Lowering his face, he seals his lips around a nipple, sucking at it before he let his teeth nibble at the peak. Her body trembles.

“You’re sensitive,” He chuckles as he abandons the tit to attend to the other.

She didn’t say anything to that, at least it’s nothing coherent. Not that Dean expected her to say anything at all.

He kisses his way downward, shoulders himself in between her thighs and he looks up, sees her watching him, her lips between her teeth. Dean holds the gaze while he uses his big hands to spread her luscious thighs. 

The big palm of his hand strokes along her upper thigh and he hooks his fingers through the seam of her panties. He watches her and when he doesn’t see resistance in her eyes, he pulls them down slowly, taking in her lower body as he strips her off the needless fabric and tosses it onto the pile of clothes on the floor. He breathes in her sweet tang which makes his head spin and he swallows hard at the sight of the feast that lays before him. 

“Look at you,” He whispers, his voice dropping deeper and is trembling a little but he keeps himself in check, still. “What a pretty sight.” Dean rubs his thumb around her clit, spreads more of her wetness around. “Prettiest little pussy.”

She doesn’t say anything, just keeps biting those sweet lips and presses her thighs together, her hands fly down in a futile attempt to try to cover herself. She wants to shield him from the place where he wants to get a taste the most and he’s come this far, he can’t let that happen. She wants it, he can see that, she’s just utterly shy and he gets that, too.

“Shhh,” Dean’s voice is soft and low, “It’s okay, baby. Let me,” He lays his hand on hers, waits until she moves her hands away on her own.

“Good girl,” He praises her, and she shows him a shy smile.

He licks his lips, wishes for more light because he’d like to see more of her. Wants to see the pink of her pussy, wants to know if it really matches her cheeks when she blushes at him. 

Thumbing her lips apart, he steals another glance, stores the image in his memories — thinks that he might really be a little creepy but they’ve already established that — before he dives in with his tongue, licking a broad stripe up her slit and she moans, arches her back at the first contact. Dean has to pause to grin and then he blows air against her clit, making her tremble and moan some more.

He couldn’t help but look up at her as he sucks at her clit, wonders if his beard is too rough against her delicate skin but she grinds down on him, pushes herself against his mouth some more as she closes her eyes and plays with her tits, rolls and twists her nipple between her fingers.

_What a fucking beautiful sight._

He licks his lips, tastes the sweet tang on them, groans a little to himself before he goes in for another taste. All the while, he’s watching her, couldn’t _not_ watch. He watches as she fists her hand in the sheets when he teeths at her sweet clit. He watches as she throws her head back when he swipes his tongue along the rim of her hole. He definitely couldn’t not watch.

“Sweetest fucking pussy I’ve ever eaten,” Dean growls, spreads kisses along her lips and thighs. “So fucking delicous. Could eat you for days,”

There’s not a word of a lie. He really could — if she would let him.

Y/N frowns a little, he thinks it’s because he has a dirty mouth and can’t keep it shut. Not with her.

He keeps his left hand on her thigh as he toys along the outside of her hole with the pad of his middle finger of his right hand. Dean looks up to meet her eyes and she nods at him.

His finger pushes in carefully before he has to stop because he needs to recollect himself. It’s tight. So fucking tight. And Dean feels another twitch of his cock just by imagining his dick instead of his finger. 

“Fuck, baby.” He swears and grits his teeth a little as he pushes in further, feels the wall of her pussy hugs his finger tight. “So wet and tight,”

She looks at him all flustered and he curses that there’s not more light for him to see the pink of her cheeks. She flinches a little as he digs in deeper, but she isn’t telling him to stop so he goes on, drives further in, cautiously, until he hits the end and there’s no going forward anymore. Carefully, he slips in another finger, feels her wall fluttering and expanding to accommodate him.

“Shit,” She exclaims, closes her eyes as he curls his fingers up to search for that special button.

He’s back at licking her, sucking her, drinking from her like a starving man as he moves his fingers a little, not too much, just enough to rub against that spot that clearly drives her wild.

“Dean,” 

It’s a whimper. She’s a mess above him while she tries to grind against his finger and face. Dean grins into her sweet lips. 

“You’re close, ain’t that so? I can feel it, sweetheart. What do you want?” He’s breathless himself.

“Want to com—ah!” 

He laughs, as the voice dies in her throat with a twist of his fingers. He can feel her walls tightening around them, if that’s even possible for her to be any tighter at all. He thinks that’s she’s so fucking tight that when he really wants to sink his cock into her, he needs to work up to it. But he’d do it gladly.

“Shit,” She bites her lips.

“Feels good?” He seals his lips around her pussy again, it’s so tiny and cute, he kind of fits it right into his mouth with room to spare and then he hums, sending vibrations throughout her body. 

He’s a little shit, he knows.

“Fuuuck, Dean! Uh-huh,”

“Uh-huh? Did you reach that spot yourself today, baby?” He rubs at that spot on the inside to emphasize his words.

“Nuh-uh.”

“Nuh-uh? Then let me help you.”

He rubs and fucks her faster, sucks harder, eyes steady on her because he wants to see that. Wants to see her coming undone.

“Fu… Dean,” She fists her hand in his hair, her nails clawing at his scalp, kind of pulling him in further and she’s strong, it hurts him a little, but a good kind of hurt. Because he likes that too, can not lie about it.

He manages to look up, his lips still attached to her clit when he speaks, “Look at me baby,” 

She blinks, closes her eyes for a long stretch and revels herself in the feelings before she opens them up and looks down at him. 

“That’s it, good girl.” He hums and mouths at her pussy, seals his lips around her clit and sucks before he lets go again. “Come for me, sweetheart. I want you to look at me when you come. I want to see you.” 

His voice is deep, has probably dropped a little more, if that’s even possible. It’s shaking a little, too, because god knows that he’s so fucking close to creaming his own goddamn underwear. 

“Oh god!” Y/N closes her eyes briefly, but then she remembers that he told her to look at him and her eyes fly open, staring into his fucking soul as she shakes around his mouth and finger. The one thigh that he didn’t pin down comes up, pushing against the side of his face so hard as she vibrates. 

Dean’s smile is confident afterwards while she lies above him, her chest heaving, her eyes closing and opening, still riding on that high. 

“It’s Dean, not god.” He grins cockily and she looks down to roll her eyes at him.

He takes out his finger, licks it clean before he laps at her pussy, cleaning her up as best as he can and yeah, he can’t get enough, that much is clear and he would dive in some more, make her come a couple more times (would love to know how many times he could make her come in one night, and yeah, he wants to find that out), if she wouldn’t have whimpered when he sucks at her clit. She’s so fucking sensitive and that’s a major turn on, too. 

Honestly, at this point, Dean doesn’t think there could be anything about her that could turn him off anymore.

Climbing up her body, he fishes at the covers at the foot of the bed and brings it back up, covering both of them with it. He kisses her then, letting her taste herself off his tongue. 

“Perfect.” He whispers as he comes up for air.

“What?”

“You’re fucking perfect.”

He knows that she’s blushing but he doesn’t care, kisses her once more.

Dean breaks the kiss after, maneuvers her onto her side again so he could spoon her from behind. “How are you feeling?”

“Good.” She says and adds, “Amazing.” 

“That’s good.” He whispers, his mouth so close to her ear and it sends sparks through her spine.

Never once did someone ask her how she feels after.

“And now we sleep,” He places a kiss behind her ear.

Y/N looks back, probably thinks he’s out of his mind (which he might be, because it was never about him and that’s a first for him). “But you didn’t—” 

Dean feels her bare ass against his rock hard and leaking cock. He’s sure that he dampened his underwear. He kisses her shoulder, her jaw, her temple. “It’s not always about me, it’s all about you. I usually have control over myself, although it’s pretty hard to have it around you sometimes.” 

She doesn’t say anything but he can feel the huff of air as she cozies herself into a fetal position. He holds her, and he swears that he’s out so fast, even if his cock’s still fucking hard. It never happened before. Things happen around her, that he clearly has no control over and maybe he should be scared but weirdly, he’s quite okay with it.


	14. Chapter XIV

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all for staying with me, even though it moves really slow. 
> 
> Please stay safe and healthy.
> 
> And don't forget to wash your hands!

Dean hears things. 

He feels things.

There’s a movement that makes the mattress he lies on rock. There’s a sound of something. It gets brighter, he knows this, even if he has his eyes closed. 

And yet, even though he hears and feels things so vividly, he can’t seem to be able to open his eyes. He doesn’t feel like he wants to, at all — feels too cozy in the warmth of the bed. A feeling he can’t really place, one he hasn’t felt for a really long time.

He pretends to still be sleeping. Like those times when Sam was in high school and he came home late. Dean was still awake but as soon as he heard the turning of keys in the lock, he slumped down on the sofa and pretended that he was sleeping, just because he didn't want Sam to know that he was worried sick and waited for Sam the whole night. He was just glad that Sam came back unscattered.

And that’s exactly what he’s doing now, he can feel the presence of someone else, can feel that someone’s moving around in the room he’s in but he’s just too lost in his own cozy cocoon.

He can hear a door closing in the distance, can hear someone walking around, hears water running, and he knows that he should be aware, maybe even frightened at the intruder who’s in his apartment, but he can’t seem to bring himself to care. It’s a weird and scary kind of satisfaction he feels. That’s what it is.

Dean wakes up a little more when he feels the mattress dipping and there’s someone nudging at his face, he opens his eyes but it’s way too bright so he closes them again. The smell of fresh coffee fills the air. 

He feels someone moving beside him, someone nudging closer, a body cozying up to his, and there’s a soft giggle.

It takes him a while before he realizes where he is but when he does, the feeling of contentment almost suffocates him.

“Wake up, sleepy head,” Y/N says, nosing at his scruff that’s now evidently even longer because he hasn’t trimmed in days, she kisses along his cheek, down his neck, and over his bare chest. His heart pumping away underneath her fingers and lips. He’s sure she must have been feeling it, too.

“No,” He mumbles, his voice scratchy, too deep, still full of sleep, feels the bass of his own voice rumble in his chest. 

“Come on.”

She sounds whiny and Dean couldn’t help but smirk when he opens one of his eyes. He has to squint because of the bright light but makes out her face as she smiles at him. She kisses him again, the corner of his lips, his chin, his nose. Her breath smells minty, fresh and there’s a smell of coffee mixed into it. She must have been up for a while.

“What a wake up call,” He says and tightens his grip around her waist, pulls her closer, lets her bury her face into the crook of his neck. “Just a little while longer, okay?”

And it’s true. He could get used to being woken up like this. 

Preferably every day.

She wraps her legs around his middle, he takes it as a _yes_. Her fingers trail along his bare chest and up his shoulder, stopping at the scar of a stray bullet that once grazed his skin. She lets her fingers dance along his bicep, there’s another scar too. He’s riddled with them. Too many to count or remember where he got it from. Sometimes he has a hard time distinguishing scars he got from his job with the ones he came home with from the war.

“War?” She asks, and there’s a crease between her eyebrows to which he lifts his head and kisses it away.

“Yeah,” He answers, even though it’s not the entire truth. Some of them are, yeah, but most of the scars on his body are not from war. She doesn’t need to know that because it doesn’t seem important to him. And that particular one she has her finger on, that’s not from war, he knows because it’s the most recent one, an ice pick from an angry dealer because Dean just put him out of business. The dealer paid for the mistake with his life with a bullet out of Cas’ gun.

He takes another look at her, the crease between her eyebrows is still there and he tucks some loose strand of her hair behind her ear, lets his finger skims along her face, she looks much better than yesterday. “How are you feeling? Still hurt?”

She shrugs. “I’ll survive.” 

“Well, I would hope so,” He chuckles. He knows that she’s probably still hurt, she must be. But he also knows that she’s one tough cookie. 

She sits up and reaches over to her bedside table to hand him a mug of steaming coffee. Heaving himself up, he rests his back against the headboard and takes the mug from her. “I don’t know how you drink it, but since I don’t have any milk and sugar left, black it is.” 

“That’s perfect.” He blows the steam a way and takes a sip. It’s perfect. He likes to drink it hotter, too. “Same color as my heart. Black as coal.” 

Y/N swats at his chest and Dean has to balance the mug as not to spill any coffee onto the bed. “Woah!”

“You don’t give yourself enough credit.”

He scoffs but feels his cheek heating up. He drinks the coffee, downs it in one go to hide the flush in his face. 

Dean turns around and places the mug onto the table on his side of the bed. He could get up now, the only problem is that he doesn’t want to. So instead of getting up, he lies down again, cozying himself up in her bed. “What time is it?” 

“It’s still early for you probably. 9AM. I just couldn’t sleep any longer.” She lies down with him and he spreads his arm for her to climb into. She comes in willingly, settles next to him, her arm drapes over his middle, her cheek on his chest. 

It’s still damn early, Dean agrees. But weirdly…

...weirdly, he feels like he slept for at least ten hours. 

He kisses her forehead, and she nudges closer so he rests his chin on the top of her head. “I didn’t have any nightmares,”

It’s a fact. He just realizes it now. It’s the second night without nightmares. Maybe the second night in what he thinks went on for years on end. He lost track already, can’t really tell when the last time was that he didn’t wake up with cold sweat and a beating heart.

“Do you usually?” Y/N asks, the tip of her finger paints figure eights on his chest. 

“Yeah,” He sighs, “Every night.”

“The war.”

“Yeah,” He chuckles, even though it’s not funny. “But with you, I don’t.”

She tilts her head, looks up at him like he’s shitting her and he chuckles, paints along her eyebrow with his thumb, massaging at the crease that’s showing right between her eyebrows, before he goes on, “Last time too, when I slept next to you, the nightmares, they were gone.” He takes a breath, feels his heart pumping faster again. “This is it, right? I found you and you found me.”

  
  


_____________________________

  
  
  
  


_“I found you and you found me.”_

Y/N doesn’t say anything, wouldn’t know what to say to this, instead she buries her face into the crook of his neck and presses closer to him, hoping it's enough. Kind of hopes, he knows that she feels the same, it’s just a little more complicated for her and she buries her face even deeper, presses her lips to his skin. She doesn’t want him to see her guilt ridden face. 

He’s stroking her back with one of his hands, his finger traveling over every bump of her spine, as if he wants to memorize it, memorize her, every bump of her body, every crease etched into her skin. 

With his other hand, he blindly reaches for his phone that he carried and placed on the bedside table before he climbed into bed with her. She feels him thumbing through his messages, and knows for sure that there were some texts from Castiel because she peeked when he was still asleep.

She watches his face as he reads through the messages. Watches the long lashes when he blinks. Sees the freckles on his face, the crease of his dimples that are showing when he’s discontent or when he purses his lips. Knows so much of him already but it doesn’t seem like she knows him enough. After the texts, he went straight to his inbox. He has twenty-three unread texts and a dozen unread emails, she saw that.

Dean thumbs through the mails, scanning the names of the sender, only opening those mails he thinks are important to read right now. He did the same with his texts.

His fingers are still lazily stroking her, and every now and then he would absentmindedly kiss the top of her head. She has her eyes closed, listens to the beating of his heart. It feels good to lie like this. It strangely feels like home, something she never knew she missed. 

“What time do you have to be at work?” He asks her but his voice is low, like he doesn’t know if she’s still awake and he doesn’t really want to wake her up.

“Seven.” She answers. It’s usually her shift because Ellen has grown comfortable with her closing up. 

Dean places his phone back on the bedside table on his side of the bed and turns around abruptly, tackling her to climb on top of her. He pins both of her hands with only one of his to the mattress above her head, laughs at her because of the look of surprise on her face. He lowers himself, kisses her nose, her lip, her chin. He’s hard, she can feel that too. He dips his free hand underneath her shirt which she put back on after she got out of bed, skids his fingers up to her tits, twists at her nipple and makes her yelp up and then he laughs some more. 

“Fuck, I wish I had more time to do all the things I wanna do to you.”

“What things?”

“Nasty things. Filthy things.” He chuckles and lowers his head to place kisses on her throat, sucks in a patch, draws blood to the surface of her skin.

He’s marking her up. And she doesn’t really mind.

“Why don’t you have time?”

He lets go of her throat long enough to answer her, “Gotta be at the bunker at ten. Cas called for a meeting.”

“The bunker?” She asks, raising an eyebrow at that.

He shrugs. “Yeah. A great one. It has a gym, gun rage, garage, kitchen, library, bedrooms, TV room, bathrooms, some more rooms and even a tub.”

His face lights up when he counts off the things he has in the bunker. Like he’s really really proud.

She wonders if they took Jo to the bunker. If Jo’s still alive or if they’ve already killed her off. It’s not her place to ask and she knows that too.

“Wow,” Y/N huffs out, “Is there anything you don’t have?”

“A pool.” The answer came out quick. 

“Well, who needs a pool when you have a bunker, huh?” She jokes and in the next breath she goes, “Like really underneath the ground?”

Dean chuckles, “Yeah. I can show you around once.”

“What do you use it for? Like, why? Oh my god, you have a dungeon there, don’t you? A red room.”

He laughs, dropping his head on her shoulder, his breath warm against the crook of her neck.

“A dungeon, yeah. But it’s not a red room. I don’t even know what a red room is.”

He’s lying. She knows that he must know. She hasn’t read a single of those books but still she knows that it’s about a millionaire business man with a freaking sex dungeon of sorts?

Dean kisses her once, chaste, before he pushes himself up and starts to get dressed. “You gonna be okay?”

“Sure.” She says, pretending that she doesn’t mind that he leaves when in fact, she minds. A lot, actually. She’d love to spend the day with him. Maybe being lazy together, in bed. Or go on a walk, or fucking talk. She doesn’t know really. Just… something.

She walks him to the door and he bends down, places his hand on the back of her neck before he kisses her. 

“I’ll see you tonight, baby.” 

“Yeah, yeah.” She still can’t hide that she’s disappointed. “When?”

“I’ll pick you up. Take you home.” He says in a kind of a sexy voice that makes the hair on her back stand up, his arms sneaking around her waist as he takes a step towards her and pulls her close, her chest flat against his.

“Yeah?”

He lowers his face, kisses her cheek. “Yeah.” 

“And then?”

“We play with the pussy.” Dean laughs like he just made the best joke in the world, the crinkles around his eyes deepening, and she rolls her eyes. “Oh come on, that was funny!”

“Sure.”

“And I wanna play with yours.” 

Her cheeks feel hot all of a sudden. Last night’s memories are flashing behind her eyes. 

She looks up to meet his eyes, sending him an amused look. “Will you let me play with your cock?” 

“Christ, Y/N!” He hisses and she laughs at that.

“Hey, it’d only be fair.”

He places both his hands on her ass, drags her closer and grinds against her, makes her feel his boner and shit, it’s really really big. “Now I can’t think of anything else and will have to sit through a meeting with a boner. Thanks to you.” Dean whispers grumpily. 

“You’re welcome,” She winks and it’s his turn to roll his eyes.

  
  


*

  
  


Dean left with a bruising kiss. She’s grown to like his kisses. They always start tantalizing slow but the pace and heat picks up soon, and he sucks and nibbles at her lips, making her shiver and leaves her wanting more. He’s a damn good kisser and that’s not really fair. 

She goes back to bed, clasps her hands over her face, the heat in her cheeks almost unbearable. 

This is it, isn’t it? He picks her of all people. And while he could have anyone, he _wants_ her. She can’t help but feel guilty about it, but also she’s selfish, because she wants that too. She _wants_ him. 

Y/N thinks about when the last time was that she felt what she feels now. Thinks about her last relationship, not that there were many. She can count them off on three fingers. There was Brad who took her virginity. And she let him because she was curious and just wanted to get it over with. After all, she agrees that virginity is just a social construct, plus, she didn’t want to be the last one to go to college with her v-card on display. She never thought Brad would stay with her afterwards but they really had a great Summer together, until they parted for different colleges. She still thinks of him every now and then, they keep in touch, too. There are obligatory emails and texts for Birthdays and Christmas. 

There were Michael and Cain later on but she barely remembers them because it’s so long ago and she doesn’t think the relationship was a fun one. Michael didn’t see her as his equal and Cain liked to keep tap on her and was very jealous. He turned into stalking and that’s the story of why she moved away from where she was before. And she’s glad that there's no way for him to find out her whereabouts when she’s undercover.

She’s yet to find out how Dean ticks but from what she gathered, he quite sees her as his equal but also someone he has to take care of (which she sometimes really doesn’t mind because she thinks that Dean needs this. Needs to be able to take care of someone).

_Oh my god, Dean._

She turns and buries her face in the pillow. There’s still traces of him left. She inhales, closes her eyes.

_Fuck._

She’s really fucked. She _shouldn’t_ but all the fibers in her body _wants_.

  
  


_____________________________

  
  
  
  


Dean drives to the bunker in a hurry. The meeting was a lie. Of course it was. He really didn’t want to lie to her but he couldn’t tell her the truth either. Not yet. Cas only told him that he has to take on the shift as everyone seems to be occupied. But the boner is a real thing and fuck, he really can’t wait to see her tonight. 

He arrives when Bobby is about to head out. 

“Did she talk?” He asks the old man. 

“Not a word. At least not the things you’d want to hear.” Bobby places a hand on his shoulder in passing. 

“Dammit,” Dean huffs out.

“You gonna be okay? Rufus is going to come over but he can’t make it before noon.” 

“Yeah,” Dean says, “That’s alright.” 

Bobby nods and makes his way up the stairs when Dean turns around to call up to Bobby. “Thanks, you know.. For the food.” 

“Anytime, son.” Bobby has a smile on his face, the man likes to talk about his food. “She’s a lovely young lady.”

“Yeah,” Dean replicates the smile. “She is.”

“Take good care of her.”

“I try.”

When the door closes, Dean walks down to the dungeon. He wonders if he needs to fix Jo something up for breakfast but seeing that Bobby was here, Dean’s sure that Bobby won’t let anyone go hungry anyway. Not even Jo.

He steps into the room, closes the door behind him before he takes a look at the girl on the chair. Jo still has that mad look in her eyes. 

Dean takes off his hoodie, drapes it over the chair and pulls the chair close to Jo. Not too close, because he knows that she can spit quite far, but close enough. Her hands are bound onto the arms of the chair.

Jo’s eyes are fixed on his crotch. What is it with women. Every time he wears sweatpants nobody even looks him in his eyes. He knows how women who are objectified on a regular basis feel now.

“My eyes are up here, Jo.” He says calmly and takes a seat. 

She chuckles darkly, her head’s a little tilted downwards but her eyes are looking up at him. “You’re half hard. Is it because of me?” 

Dean snorts. “You probably wish, Jo.”

“I mean, I can help out.” She shrugs, her lips curve into a playful smile but then her face settles into something else. Something Dean hasn't seen for a long time. Something that resembles the old Jo. “You were with her, weren’t you?”

“Yeah,” He says, smiles a little and can’t help it because he always smiles when he thinks of Y/N.

“What is it about her?”

“She’s not you.” Dean shrugs.

“Ouch, that hurt.” 

He doesn’t know why Jo starts to chuckle but this time it isn’t dark. It sounds kind of genuine and he wonders if that’s it. If this is the moment Jo comes back to her fucking senses.

And then Jo adds, “No, really, why her?”

He takes a moment to think. Yeah, it’s a legitimate question. Why her of all people when he could have anyone? “I don’t know. I think that there are people out there who will fuel the fire inside of you, you know? Who will push you and better you. She’s doing exactly that.” 

“You love her?”

“I don’t know,” He threads his hand through his hair, “It’s still new.”

“You do, because that’s how you are.” Jo says then when her chuckle dies down. 

“What do you mean?”

“It’s sad that everyone knows you better than you know yourself, Dean, isn’t it?”

Dean raises his eyebrow, not really getting it.

“You love her. You don’t know it yet but you do.” Jo huffs out. Her lips curve into a playful smile. 

“Love is so rare.” He says, knowing that it is.

“When you love, you love. You wouldn’t go through all this if you don’t love her. We all know that. And your love, Dean, has always been unconditional. It’s rare, you know? So, love is not rare. _Your_ love is.”

“I don’t understand.”

Jo sighs, “Oh my god, you can be glad that you look as good as you do. What do you mean you don’t understand?” Jo rolls her eyes and he knows that if she could, she would gesture wildly with her hands. “You don’t know any other love than unconditional, is what I’m saying. John? Mary? Sam? Those are the only ones you ever did love. And it’s unconditional. They could do no wrong in your eyes.”

Dean’s crease between his eyebrows deepens.

Jo chuckles and goes on. “Remember when Sam totalled your first car? Or when John neglected you guys and dropped you off at my mom’s? You were annoyed, yes, but nothing could make you unlove them. Not even the shit that they both threw at you afterwards.”

Dean’s exhales. “Aaaand that’s enough story time for today. It’s too early for me to wrap my head around this shit.” 

He stands up, grabs his hoodie and walks out without looking at Jo. 

Walking along the corridor he thinks he needs a drink but he decides to take a shower instead. He meets Crowley later, needs a clear head to talk things through.

  
  
  



	15. Chapter XV

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for your lovely feedback! I see and read everyone of them.  
> I can just reveal that I have already written til chapter 23. So it'll take a while til we hit the end. I hope you'll staying with me xx

Dean stands under the stream of warm water, Jo’s words still ringing in his ears. He closes his eyes, letting the water wash over him.

Jo’s right.

Of course she’s right. 

Doesn’t mean he likes it, though.

That’s textbook Dean Winchester, ain’t it? It also kind of shows that he’s capable of love, which should be a good thing. He thought he didn’t have it in him, gave up hope because as he told Jo, love is rare. But yeah, his family, he loves them. Unconditionally. There’s nothing they could do to make him unlove them. And Jo’s right about that.

But loving unconditionally, is that really the only thing he’s capable of? Does he love Y/N? The thought of her makes his heart flutter and his dick twitch.

 _No, it’s not love_ , he thinks.

At least not yet. 

But he’s on the highway there and it should scare him. He should be terrified but strangely, he’s not.

Dean’s dick starts to grow but he immediately thinks of something else, doesn’t want to rub himself off, not when there’s the prospect of seeing Y/N later. Instead, he thinks of all the things he still has to do today, thinks about looking at the sales numbers, planning next deliveries in his head, has to go back to his apartment to feed the cat, baseball, golf, the ending of Game Of Thrones… Just thinks of all the _unsexy_ things he can possibly manage in order to make his boner go away.

  
  
  


***

  
  


Crowley’s waiting for Dean in Crowley’s new strip club (bought under a false alias, obviously) and as soon as Dean steps in, he notices that it’s not a normal strip club. At least it’s not like the ones he's been to lately.

It’s exclusive, looks somewhat fancy and expensive. All the girls are probably screened every three months, some even given boosting cosmetic surgeries and he can imagine that they cost more an hour than most men make in a month.

He doesn’t know if it’s only stripping but knowing Crowley, it most likely isn’t.

A big bald bodyguard leads Dean up the stairs and he feels kind of exposed, it’s only 9PM and there aren’t many people here yet. However, there were familiar faces. Doctors and politicians, people who Dean knows for sure that they have an equally beautiful wife or girlfriends at home. People Dean knows are shady, people Dean makes deals with. 

They pass two women on the upper floor, it’s the VIP section and Dean wonders why there is one when the club is _Members Only_ anyway. The women whisper something to each other as Dean walks by. He knows they’re talking about him because they’re checking him out. Can feel their eyes on him, they’re probably hoping that he'll chat them up. He did that a lot in the past. Took them to a hotel, left later with the promise to call, which of course, he never did. But yeah, he’s in a strip club and for them, he’s probably just a walking dollar sign. 

He stays focused, follows the bodyguard to a door which is most likely the entrance to an exclusive lounge. Dean snorts at the thought. Only Crowley would open a _Members Only_ club and still manage to segregate different levels. Dean bets it depends on one's income which section you belong in. He knows Crowley too well.

Dean risks a glance to the floor level before he steps through the door, sees girls dancing, sees them grinding on laps, all of them half naked. And out of nowhere, there’s a feeling of longing in his heart that he can't quite place, maybe mostly because he’s never felt it before. Dean thinks he would rather be anywhere but here, and that’s a given. But most of all, he thinks that he’d like to be with her right now. 

He flips his wrist, sees that it’s 9.07PM, thinks that the Roadhouse probably slowly starts to fill up.

“You can go in.” The bodyguard’s words jolts Dean back to reality.

The moment Dean steps through the door, a wall of humidity hits him square in his face. The air gets thicker, it gets harder to breathe and the temperature is significantly warmer.

He can see a pool at the back, it’s lit up in some lilac shade colors. In front of the pool is a group of big bulky leather chairs Crowley and his men are sitting in. All of them have a girl on their lap except Crowley. Crowley has two — on each side. There are more people mingling in the pool, some are in the back to the other side where there are more chairs and beds. All the girls are dressed in a bikini and some of them are even naked. Dean swallows hard.

“Winchester!” Crowley’s as cheery as ever. “Sit down!” He gestures to an empty chair among them.

“Crowley,” Dean nods, unbuttons his suit jacket and shrugs it off to drape it behind the chair before he sits down.

It’s almost unbearably hot and humid. 

“Drink?” Crowley already signals his hand to the waitress who’s wearing a skin tight dress. Probably to be able to distinguish her from the other girls. Something to say that she’s only here to serve drinks. Crowley looks to Dean with a smirk on his face. “And a girl? Honey, get him a girl.”

“Drink yes. Gotta pass on the girl, Crowley.” Dean says, and adds, “Can we get to business?”

Crowley laughs, his hands tighten on the girl on his lap. “You’ll get a girl anyway.”

_God dammit._

The drink comes, served by a girl with long, dark hair. At least she still wears her bikini. Rainbows and unicorns are on it. He thinks it’s kinda cute, would probably suit Y/N better. He takes the drink from her, it’s whiskey because Crowley knows what he drinks. 

She climbs into Dean’s lap and he’s doing his best not to touch her, his hand rests on the arm of the chair with one hand clutching at his tumbler like his life depends on it.

“Hi, I’m Unicorn.” She says in a deep alluring voice while her hands play with his tie, her breasts press up against him and they nearly spill out of her bikini top. 

And really, Dean’s so fucking glad he’s not a teenager anymore and learned throughout the years to have his cock under control.

“Hey,” Dean says out of courtesy, and takes a big gulp of his drink. “Unicorn? Really?”

She chuckles. “I had to come up with something.”

“So you went by Unicorn and not like some typical stripper name. What are they? Candy? Crystal? Cherry?”

“Hey, I like unicorns!” She laughs, points her fingers to her bikini top, arches her back and pushes her chest out and Dean grins at that because it’s so colorful it’s bordering on bad taste. 

There’s something in her eyes that makes him think she’s probably new to all of this. Maybe only graduated and needed money to make ends meet. He lets her dance around in his lap, but keeps his hands away from her.

Crowley talks about the club (very exclusive and expensive), tells Dean about all the things they can do here (you name it — you get it), informs Dean that he and his men wouldn’t have to pay for a membership (not that Dean will tell his men that anyway). And then Crowley stands up, loosens the knot that holds his robe together (Dean didn’t even notice that the guy was wearing a freaking robe) and tells Dean to wait for business talk because he wants to take a dip in the pool and if Dean wanted, he could join him.

Yeah no, over his dead body. There’s no way he’s going to bathe in filthy water. So he sits back and orders himself another drink.

“So,” Unicorn says while she swings her hips from side to side on his thigh. “I can feel that you don’t really want me on your lap and honestly, I don’t really wanna be here myself but can you play along? I don’t wanna lose my job.”

Dean’s eyes widened. He hadn’t thought about it. Was actually close to tell her to fuck right off his lap but yeah, he doesn’t want to be the reason she’ll get fired for. 

“Can we just stay like this? Like, no further touching? Just you on my thigh?”

“Sure,” 

Unicorn still moves a little to keep up the facade, but it’s not as intense as it was before, not that it mattered because it didn’t really affect him. 

It was about a couple of minutes of lap wriggling later that his phone vibrates in his pants and Unicorn yelps up with a laugh.

“Yeah, I should get that.” He says, and she gets up to let him fish his phone out of his pocket.

He looks at the screen. It’s the Roadhouse. Landline. Which is weird. He never gets calls from there.

Dean slides his thumb over the screen and puts the phone to his ear. “‘Lo?”

“There’s a man dressed in black jeans and black leather jacket, standing at the bar since the start of my shift. He ordered a beer but that’s it. Nothing else. And he watches me. It’s creepy. Bet his beer is stale now and he still sips at it. Which makes it all so much creepier.”

His heart takes a leap upon hearing her voice and Dean smiles. He can hear the music in the background, can hear people talking. Y/N called him from work. From a freaking landline. Which means that she probably memorized his number, knows it by heart, and he can’t help but grin a little wider, feels the crinkles around his eyes as they deepened.

“Baby, that’s Adam.”

Unicorn climbs back into his lap but as they agreed before, she stays where she’s allowed.

“You have someone watching me? Someone named Adam?” Y/N gets loud.

“Relax. He’s just gonna stay in the bar. See it as some kind of bouncer. He’s not allowed to follow you anywhere unless I say so.”

“Great.”

“I’m sorry, I should have told you before I did that.” Dean really wanted to but there was no time.

“I wish you did, too.” She huffs out, and adds, “He stares at me right now. What a creep.”

Dean laughs, “He’s only doing what I told him to do.”

“And what’s that?”

“To not let you out of his sight.”

“What if I have to go to the bathroom?”

“Then he’ll stay in front of the door. He won’t go in unless he has a death wish, don’t worry about that.”

“Like standing in front is not creepy at all.” She says, and then adds, “So if I was to punch him or say, stick my tongue out or flash him, he wouldn’t do anything right?”

“I would hope that you won’t flash him.” Dean might play it off as a joke but he really hopes she won’t. “But to answer your question, no. He won’t do anything to you. He just keeps all the other creeps away.”

“Because he’s the king of the creeps.” She laughs. “I just did.”

“What? Flash him?”

“Duh! Stuck my tongue out. He didn’t even blink! Is he human?”

“I would hope so because I’d be paying him way too much if he wasn’t.”

“When are you coming?” Her voice is smaller now. 

Dean sighs, would love to go there now because Crowley is too busy splashing around with girls anyway. “As soon as I can get away, I promise.”

“Okay,” There’s a sigh on the other line and then she adds. “Bye.”

“Bye, sweetheart.” 

He keeps his phone in his hand, pushing at the button, making his screen light up again to look at the time.

“Is that your girl?” Unicorn asks, stealing a glimpse at his phone, as the lock screen lights up.

It’s a picture of Y/N. He took it in the morning when she slept at his place. Her hair was messy around her face, his shirt that she was wearing rode down, revealing her shoulder. Her lips slightly parted. He always kept it as his home screen and he figured, today he could also use it as his lock screen.

“Yeah,” Dean couldn’t hide the grin, neither the proud feeling in his chest. “That’s her.” The light goes out and he thumbs the button to light it up again. “She’d kill me if she knows I took this picture.”

Unicorn is looking intensely, squinting her eyes a little, too. 

“What?” He asks.

“Nothing,” Unicorn says, “She looks familiar, is all.”

Just when Dean wants to ask more, Crowley stands before him, the water dripping down the short man’s legs. “Right, we can go talk business now.” 

_Fucking finally_ , Dean thinks. Unicorn scrambles off his lap and he stands up, pocketing his phone before he lets Crowley lead him into an office in the back.

  
  


_____________________________

  
  
  


It’s past 2AM when Dean walks through the door. She knows it’s him because every time that man walks it, everyone shuts the hell up.

Her cheeks heat up. It’s what always happens when she sees him and it’s really not fucking fair because he looks so good. He’s wearing a suit, probably tailored, a white shirt, the top three buttons are undone. He’s probably lost the tie along the way. His hair’s a little ruffled up, as if he had spent a lot of time in high humidity. She wonders if he just came out of a shower and if yes, why did he shower? It shouldn’t bother her that much, so she bottles up her curiosity.

And there it is, the smile on his face, it’s so big and there are a lot of crinkles around his eyes, as if he’s smiling with his eyes, too. 

She can’t hide the effect he has on her, turning beet red as she watches him walk towards the bar. Smiling back at him just because it’s the only thing she’s capable of. 

Dean’s eyes leave hers for a moment and she can see him scan the room. He nods towards Adam who nods back and then backs off, leaving the bar.

“Hi,” He says as he sits down. 

Y/N remembers that she’s still tapping a beer, realizes it when the pint glass overflows and curses. “Shit.”

Dean chuckles.

She drops the glass in the sink before she braces her arms on the counter “Hi, what can I get you?”

He shrugs, his eyes never leaving hers. “I don’t know,”

“Hey Winchester, get in line!” The man on the back shouts out, because that’s the guys beer she’s been pouring before.

Dean looks back at the man and she can’t see the look in Dean's eyes but it must have been scary because the other man shuts up and takes a couple of steps back.

He turns back to her, the smile is back on his face. “A kiss maybe?”

She grins and lowers herself down a little. Her stomach gets warm when their lips meet. She went in for a peck on the lips but Dean’s hand is on her neck, his thumb strokes her cheek and he pulls her closer, kissing her harder. 

“Oh no! Get a fucking room, will ya?” Ash could be heard saying as he walks back into the bar from wherever he was before.

They part and she breathes hard. Dean’s lips were red and slick, she can only imagine that hers are the same. “You smell like chlorine. Did you go swimming?” 

Dean snorts out a laugh. “It was a meeting.”

“Right.” She says, not really believing him but also it’s not her place to ask. She just couldn’t help but wonder who he met and what they talked about.

Y/N takes a tumbler and fills it with whiskey.

“There was this girl,” Dean starts and she stills. “Long, dark hair, round face, dimpled chin?”

She raises an eyebrow, wondering why he tells her that. 

“Unicorn bikini? She also said her name was Unicorn.” Dean only looks at the glass she places in front of him and she’s glad because something clicked in her head and she wouldn’t have wanted him to see her reaction.

“Huh,” She lets out.

“You jealous?” There’s some playfulness in the tone of his voice, amusement in his look.

“So you came here to tell me that you’re breaking up with me because you met a girl named Unicorn in a unicorn bikini?” She says, and starts to tap a beer for the poor guy in the back.

Dean rolls his eyes. “Jesus Christ, Y/N!”

She ignores him, but it’s just for show, really. It’s cute how easy she can wind him up.

He empties the whiskey in one go, squints at the burn. “Listen to me, alright?” 

When she doesn’t say anything, he starts to talk again. “Right. So, the girl's name is Unicorn, which I think it’s a fake name.”

“Duh,”

“Shush!” He hushes her. “Anyway, she saw a picture of you and said that you looked familiar. Do you by any chance know a girl who’s in the possession of a unicorn bikini?”

Of course she does, but Dean doesn’t have to know that. She has the strong feeling that it’s Meg. They’re in the same unit, which makes her think that Linda probably got Meg to go undercover too.

Y/N tries to avert the conversation. “Wait, what? A picture of me?”

“Shit,” Dean mutters under his breath and clasps a hand over his face. “I’m busted, ain’t I?”

“You’re in so much trouble.” She’s stern. “What picture Dean?”

He exhales and gets his phone out from his pocket, hands it to her in defeat.

She didn’t even have to unlock it, sees the phone light up with a picture and yeah, it’s her. While she was sleeping in Dean’s bed hungover as fuck.

“You’ve got to delete this.”

“I can’t.”

“Why?”

“It’s the only picture I have!” He says like he’s defending himself, and adds, “I need another one if I can’t use that one.” He says, makes some chin hands, probably thinks he’s cute. And she hates that he is. “Please?”

“We’ll see about that.”

She signals for the other guy to come get his drink and then turns to Dean again as he pockets his phone back. “Okay,” she says, “But only if I can take one of you.”

Dean smiles at that. “Deal.”

  
  


*

  
  


Dean helps her close the bar and waits for her to turn the key as she finishes locking up. 

As soon as she turns around to leave, he’s pinned her to the door. His lips on hers, his hands on her waist kneading and squeezing at her flesh. It’s crazy how fast she gets turned on with him. Can’t lie that she loves his big hand kneading her, how she loves that his kisses are rough and demanding.

“Hi,” He says as he breaks from the kiss, his forehead still on hers.

“Hi,” she replies, smiling with her lips between her teeth.

He toys at the hem of her shirt, dibs a finger into the seam of her jean skirt. “A skirt, huh?” 

It’s not like he hasn’t noticed because she’s seen him staring at her thighs and ass as they cleaned the bar. 

“I get more tips when I show some skin.” She grins a cocky grin. The same one he normally gives her when he’s so fucking full of himself.

Dean rolls his eyes visibly. “You ever flashed for tips?”

“Only Adam.” She winks and Dean drops his forehead on her shoulder. “You jealous?” She asks, takes his words and uses them against him.

“Nah, but I think Adam has an expiring date coming up.” He kisses her cheek, takes her hand and pulls her towards his car.

  
  
  
  
  



	16. Chapter XVI

At first, Dean had wanted her to leave her car at the Roadhouse but she’s not going to make the same mistake again. Not having a car to get away, that is. Not that she wants to but she’d rather be safe than sorry. 

She wants to call Linda, ask her about Meg but it’s way past 3AM, she doubts that Linda is awake or would be happy for her to call and wake her up. So she kind of pushes it aside, making a mental note to call Linda first thing in the morning. Has to try to find a way to do it. 

_Oh my god._

The thought just hits her now. She’s going to sleep at his place. Again. And this time she’s sober too. And he might wanna do things. She’s not entirely opposed to doing those _things_ but still… _fuck_ , they’re gonna spend the night!

  
  


*

  
  


They park and take the elevator and Dean’s trying to be good, she knows because he can’t stop himself from not touching her. It’s those subtle little touches, on the small of her back, on her hips, her arm, fingers brushing against her cheeks, and they’re good. So good but also it’s pure torture it’s what it is.

She stands back and lets him unlock his door. 

“You hungry?” He asks, as he pushes in. Hands flying to the light switch. And she takes off her jacket. Dean had taken off his suit jacket before they drove off, his sleeves folded back over his forearms.

She takes off her shoes while he unlaces his. They’re there in their socked feet and it feels very… normal? 

She shakes her head no at his question, “Are you?”

He stands up and pins her to the wall, slides a knee between her thighs and his tongue between her lips. 

It builds up so fast too, her hands claws at the back of his neck, her cunt grinds against his clothed thigh. 

He breaks for air, because that’s what it is between them. They can never catch a breath. “Could eat you alive.” 

Dean picks her up all of a sudden, throws her over his shoulder and she shrieks and laughs. He walks her over to the couch, drops her down before sitting down himself, pats his thighs, “Come here,”

She goes in willingly. Of course she does. Drapes her legs over his, her skirt rides up but honestly, she doesn’t even care anymore. 

He hugs her around her waist, presses his lips to her neck, sucks at the place where he left a mark this morning which she didn’t care to hide. She was aware of the people staring when her shift starts and kind of blushes a little at the thought that they all now know where she got it from. _Whom_ she got it from.

She grinds down on his bulge, actually wants to keep it classy, and doesn't want to come across as needy when that’s all she is right now. She’s a mess, held together by the grinding of her pussy on his clothed dick. Thin layers of fabric separates them.

Dean leans back when he’s satisfied with his work on her throat, looks up at her, his eyes dark and it’s really as if he wasn't lying to her. As if he indeed could eat her alive if she’d only let him. 

His one hand is on her hip helps her grind herself on him, his other hand pinches at her nipple through her top and bra and she arches her back at that.

He sneaks the hand that’s still on her hip further down past her bunched up skirt, until he’s kneading at her ass cheek.

“God, your ass,” He starts to say but doesn't get any further, instead he spanks it and then she feels both of his hands on her bottom. 

Y/N yelps up a little, it’s a good kind of hurt but not nearly enough to still the want in her. 

“Do you like to be spanked?” His voice is deep and dark and he’s panting. 

“Uh-huh,” She nods, leans down to kiss him and she breathes into his mouth.

“Yeah?” He grins into the kiss. 

“Yeah.” Wow, she can form words. “Again. Harder.” Words but not whole phrases, apparently.

He chuckles at that. And she sits up again, looks down to see him watching her. “Harder?”

Before she could say _yes_ , he brings both his hands down on her ass and it stings, fuck does it sting. He kneads her cheeks then, helping her grind. Helping her reach her climax and shit, she’s close.

“More,” She probably sounds desperate, she doesn’t care.

Dean raises an eyebrow, “More?” 

“Ye—” She can’t finish the word, feels the impact of the sting.

He spanks her twice more, hard and fast.

“Fuck, you’re perfect,” He says, his hands kneading her ass.

“Shit,” 

“Come baby, come for me.” He has one hand inside her shirt now, his finger twists at her nipple, and that’s it, she comes with a moan and her legs start to shake. 

She buries her face in the crook of his neck as she writhes above him, Dean has to hold her still until she’s down from her high. 

Pushing herself upright again, she looks at him, her head’s still spinning. “Oh my god,”

“Fucking amazing, is what you are.” Dean smiles and pulls her down by her neck, kisses her hard, dirty and so fucking sloppy. It’s the hottest thing.

She has to break up for air, resting her forehead at his throat. “I think I wet your pants.”

Dean laughs at that, stands up with her still wrapped around his body and walks over to his bedroom. He drops her on the bed. And it’s only now that he sees the dark patch with her slick and cream. She blushes because it’s really embarrassing.

He sees that she’s uncomfortable, pushes his finger underneath her chin and makes her look up at him. “Hey, look at me,” He waits until her eyes focus on him. “Don’t worry about it alright? That was the hottest thing I’ve ever seen.”

She nods and he pecks her lips before he proceeds to take off his shirt. He turns to her as his hands work on his belt buckle. “You wanna take a bath with me?”

“A what?”

“You heard me.” He laughs.

“I never thought you’d be a bath person.”

“I’m not but I just feel like taking one with you.” He drops his pants, takes the belt out from the loops and throws his pants into the hamper along with his shirt. “Come on, you can start the bath, Imma go see what the cat needs.” He signals to the bathroom with a jerk of his head before he walks out of the room.

“It has a name, you know?” She calls out to him and he sighs. She knows that he’s rolling his eyes.

  
  


*

  
  


Y/N slips into the bathroom, leaves the door to the bedroom open. She takes a look in the mirror by the sink. She truly looks like she’s been fucked. 

Ignoring her reflection, she walks to the bathtub in the back and turns on the faucets. There’s a bottle of bubble bath sitting at the edge so she pours some of it inside. It’s a big tub, could probably fit six of her inside.

She walks back over to the sink, puts her hair up in a bun, secures it with the tie from around her wrist and cleans the mascara stains from under her eyes. 

Looking down, she notices a comb, some beauty products in a little basket. Her brand of deodorant, make up remover, some more hair ties. She turns around, sees the shower, her brand of shampoo, conditioner and bodywash sitting next to his things. 

_My god._

He must have seen the products she uses in her bathroom and now he went out of his way to get the things for her. 

That’s a first. 

No guy ever did that for her and she doesn’t know if she should be freaked out by that. 

She takes off her shirt, slips her skirt off her hips. There’s no mirror big enough to inspect her rear but she has the feeling that Dean left a mark in the shape of his hands there. Not that she minds. 

Taking off her bra, she slips off her panties and they’re sticky wet with a tear at the seam. Ruined another pair, didn’t she? Should maybe pack another pair next time.

There’s a trail of her clothes along the way from the sink to the tub because that’s just how she is. She noticed that Dean’s very clean and neat. And she’s just… less neat. She rather clean up after but she needs that state of chaos because she already has to keep every aspect of her life in order. 

  
  


*

  
  


Dean comes in when she’s already in the tub, the water slowly climbing up. She didn’t notice him with her eyes closed, as she’s enjoying the warmth.

“Move, sweetheart,” he says with an amused look.

“No.” She grins and holy shit, it hit her then that Dean’s naked. She doesn’t dare to look, thinks she’s probably all shades of red so she just tilts her head down and looks at the bubbles in her bath but still dares to mumble, “It’s my turn to be the big spoon.”

“Jesus,” Dean sighs and she knows that he must be rolling his eyes, can hear it in the tone of his voice. But he doesn’t say anything, instead he steps into the warm water, turns off the faucets and leans back between her legs until his head is on her shoulder. “Sometimes, you can be really bratty, you know that, right?”

She hugs him from behind, rubs along his chest, his stomach, doesn’t dare to go down further. “Don’t you like it?”

“Love it,” He says, closing his eyes as he lets her stoke along his body. “This feels good.”

“Hard day?” She massages his head, getting his hair all wet but he doesn’t mind, even closing his eyes.

“You have no idea.”

She kisses his temple, and thinks that he’s right. It feels really good to unwind in the bath after a long night. She’s back on stroking his body absentmindedly, didn’t notice that her hands are now on his thigh, only notices as she feels Dean hitching his breath.

He places his hands on hers, guides her along his thighs and her heart races the closer he gets to his cock. She’s sure that he can feel it beating with his head resting just above her chest.

Dean sits up a little now, and all she can see is a wall of shoulder but she still has her arm around him. Dean Winchester has cute little freckles on his shoulder and back.

She kisses between his shoulder blades. Spread kisses on his back. On a freckle. On a scar.

He jerks when her lips touch a particular scar. “That one is sensitive.” 

Y/N kisses it, softer. 

“Still feel it when it’s raining,” He adds.

He guides her hand onto his dick, and holy cow he’s really big. She doesn’t think it’ll fit, to be honest. He’s hard and thick, she can fit two hands around him and they still wouldn’t cover the whole of him.

She rests her cheek on his back as she strokes him slowly up and down, twists at the tip when she reaches it, doesn’t know if it feels good but she’s read about it, so she hopes that the magazines she read wasn’t shitting her. Apparently it’s the truth because Dean is biting back a groan. It comes out as a choked cute little sound. 

“Fuck,” He says, his eyes fly open. “That’s a bad idea.” The voice makes his back vibrate under her cheeks.

“Is it?” 

Wow, what a great thing to say to hurt a girl.

“Shit, no, not like that. I mean,” He pauses and there’s a sound he makes in his throat. “Fuck, I mean that I’m so fucking sensitive because I didn’t get myself off for a couple of days and I’d rather not come in the bathtub after a couple of strokes. Because that would be _really_ embarrassing.”

“Oh,” She stops stroking, giggles a little too.

“Come on, let’s get out.” He slips from her grip, stands up and gets out to get the towels, wraps one around himself before she spreads one out for her to step into and wrap her in with.

He carries her into the bedroom, drops her into his bed carelessly, making her laugh before he shuts her up with a kiss. He loosens his towel before he tugs at hers, and it’s the first time that she’s truly naked before him.

Dean sits back on his heels, takes her in and call it instincts but she wants to cover herself up. Her hands are already flying down to protect her modesty but he knows and says, “Don’t hide yourself from me.”

She hesitates but then she lets her hands drop around her.

“Good girl.” He praises, and kisses her, his hands are everywhere at once and she wonders how he does it.

He sucks down her throat, his scruff rough against her skin but she welcomes it, loves how it scratches. 

Dean seals his lip around her nipple, nibbles at the peak as his hand strokes her down there. “You’re always so responsive, so fucking wet.”

She hopes it’s a good thing.

“It’s the best.”

How? Did she say that out loud?

He kisses her, his tongue licks into her mouth the same time as he breaches her pussy with two of his fingers, making her yelp out a little into his mouth.

“Shit,” Dean exhales and she kind of knows it’s because she’s tight and he probably imagines pushing his cock in instead of his fingers and honestly, she’s been thinking about it too.

He rests his forehead on her and is panting hard just from fingerfucking her. “You okay?”

Always so considerate. She wonders if that’s in his nature or if it’s because he’s truly afraid to hurt her. 

“Yeah,” She chokes out as his fingers twist inside of her. 

“Good, I’ll try three, alright? Can you take that, baby?”

“Uh-huh,” She nods.

He pushes a third finger alongside the two and she moans out loud.

“Fuck,” Y/N grits her teeth.

“Okay?” He asks,

“Uh-huh,” She nods, “Just so… full.”

“Jesus, you feel so good around my fingers.” He’s breathing so hard. 

The sound of his fingers inside her, of the wetness around her when he moves his hand just right — it’s loud and obscene. And very very embarrassing. 

He curves his fingers, makes her fist one hand in the sheets and she clasps the other hand over her mouth.

“Don’t you dare cover your mouth. I wanna hear everything.”

Okay, hands off face, noted. She’s so fucking far gone.

“Shitshitshit,” She shouts, because there’s a pressure building in the pit of her stomach. Her walls flutter around his fingers and the wet sound gets even louder. “Too much. Dean, too much.”

“Come on, baby.”

“It’s too much. Fuck…Dean!” Her whole body shakes. “I feel like I need to pee.” The feeling in her stomach grows, it’s like someone is squeezing her guts. She’s never felt anything like it before in her life.

“No, no, keep going. Let yourself fall, baby. I got you.” He’s panting hard as he fucks his finger into her as if his life depends on it.

And she did what she was told, let herself fall, that is, because there was no way she could have turned back anymore, was dancing dangerously on the edge. 

She comes with his name on her lips and then there’s just nothing. She sees fucking stars and then everything went white.

Opening her eyes again, she sees Dean hovering above her, his nose almost touching hers and he has his lips curved into a grin. She can feel that she’s embarrassingly wet down there where Dean is still rubbing her clit lazily soft.

“Oh my god, what was that?” She asks, too out of breath but her head’s light and there’s a feeling of happiness cursing through her body.

He chuckles, kisses her softly once then twice. “You just kinda squirted all over my bed.”

“I didn’t.” 

There’s no way she did. She’s never squirted before, thinks it’s a myth.

“Duh,” Dean holds out his hand for her to look at. It’s dripping wet.

She feels her cheek burning up, clasps both hands over her face, and wants for the ground to open up and swallow her. “I’m sorry.”

“Hey, look at me.”

When she takes her hand from her face, she sees Dean sucking on his fingers, like it’s the best thing he’s ever had. It’s like yesterday when he went down on her because he really enjoyed it, and it’s weird, isn’t it? He got nothing in return and like now too. It’s as if he doesn’t mind it at all.

He smiles, “Stop apologizing. It’s the hottest thing, I swear.” His hands are back at rubbing her down there, making her jump a little because she’s grown sensitive from two orgasms. And then he tucks at the towel beneath her. “Good thing the towel was here. But I think I need to go get some plastic cover for the mattress. You’re messy, even without squirting. Which—“

He kisses her nose. “—is amazing. Fuck, baby.” 

Dean gets on his knees, his hand scoops up her wetness between her legs and strokes his cock with it. She can see that it’s leaking a clear liquid, the tip of it a shade of angry red and all of a sudden, she feels so empty inside, needs something to fill her up.

She’s wriggling, there’s an unrest in her, a need she never experienced before.

He kneels between her thighs, rubs his lengths between her pussy lips. His breathing is strained and there are deep noises coming from his throat. 

“Not enough,” She whines and moves her hips. His dick is coated in her slick. It’s good. Perfect. But not nearly enough.

Dean’s gaze is intense. He watches his cock rubbing against her pussy, almost slipping in when the head of it catches her rim. 

“Please,” Y/N says, she knows that she sounds desperate but she doesn’t care because all she cares about is to be filled, to still the emptiness inside of her pussy. 

“..Dean.”

“What do you want, sweetheart?”

Oh, he’s going there, isn’t he? He’s really a little shit and he knows.

“Your cock.” 

His hands are on her legs, spreading her more and moves closer. “And where do you want it?”

He rests his cock at her entrance and, being the little shit that he is, doesn’t move. “I know what you want, baby. I just need to hear you say it.”

She rolls her eyes, moves her hips, trying to somehow get him inside but he holds her legs firm. 

“Shit. I need your cock in my pussy, ple—“ The air’s punched out of her chest has his dick breaches her.

He works in slowly, pulling out, sinking in, a little more every time. 

“Fuck.” She says as he works in the last couple of inches. 

And there’s the thought of a condom, of course there is, but she’s overwhelmed and she knows that Dean’s probably thinking the same too, but she trusts him and oh god, since when is she so naive.

“God, you’re so fucking tight.” Dean grits his teeth and there’s one hand that leaves her leg to rub at her clit. It should work as a distraction to make her feel pleasure while he fills her up and it helps. “You okay?”

“Yeah,” She swallows, “yeah.”

He nods before he bites his lips, works the rest in and oh fuck, he’s so fucking deep.

Dean leans down, both elbows on either side of her head as he kisses her. She rests her legs on his lower back. 

He doesn’t move, stays still while he plasters her face with kisses. “How are you feeling?”

“Good. So full.”

He chuckles, and then his breathing picks up, so much that he has to lower down his forehead on her shoulder as a way to calm himself she guesses. 

“You okay?” It’s her turn to ask.

“Yeah,” He exhales. “You feel so good, Jesus Christ! It takes everything in me not to lose myself right now.”

She kisses his cheek. Waits a few minutes until she feels impatient. “Can you please, please move! You’re killing me.”

“God, such a brat.” He says in a playful voice and begins to move and has to stop for a breather after two pumps. “God dammit, you’re amazing.” He kisses her, his tongue dances in her mouth and now she feels full on both ends. 

He fucks her, slow and deep and while every push hits her so good, she wants him to move more, to truly fuck her. 

“More, Dean.” She whispers, “Please. Harder.” Her brain’s incapable of forming phrases apparently.

“I can go a little harder but I won’t go all the way.” He pushes himself up on his hands but still hovers above her. 

“Because I’m tight?”

“That too, yeah.” He says, his hips moving a little faster, it’s not as deep anymore but harder, thankfully. “Go on, touch yourself.”

She sneaks a hand in between their bodies, rubs at her clit while he fucks her and Dean’s right. It feels fucking amazing and it doesn’t take long for her to get to that edge again.

“Shit, you just got tighter.” He kisses her once before he pushes up in his hands again, he wants to still be close to her, she knows it. “Come on, come for me, baby.”

Y/N’s not usually the one who likes to be bossed around by men but holy shit the way he says it in his deep voice gets her. She comes with a moan, she thinks her eyes crossed at the pressure and it just got a lot wetter down there. 

“Holy—” Dean sinks his teeth into his bottom lip. Fucks her a little harder than before but she knows that he could go harder if he wants to. “Quick, where do you want me to come.”

She hasn’t thought about it but she knows that she doesn’t want him to pull out at all. Not now, not ever. Feels perfect when he’s inside of her, wants him to stay like this. 

So she says a thing only naive and dumb people would say. “Want you to come in me, to fill me up.”

“Jesus fuc—” He slumps down, teeth biting into her shoulder and he’s heavy on top of her but it feels good. She feels safe with him. 

He’s panting, and she hugs him, buries her face in his chest, smells him. Fresh soap and sweat. He tilts his head to look at her. “You can’t say shit like that when I try to be good.” It makes her laugh. And he adds in the next breath, “‘M sorry, should have pulled out. I get checked regularly. I’m clean, if it helps.” 

She grins and kisses him. She never had a doubt about him and it should scare her, she knows, because she basically puts all her trust into one man. One Dean Winchester, the one she should be keeping an eye on (which she basically does). “I’m on birth control, if it helps to calm you down.”

“Wouldn’t mind if you weren’t.” He shrugs and kisses her. 

She snorts out a laugh because she’s sure that he means it as a joke.

He kisses her forehead before he pulls out with a squelch. She cringes her nose at the noise and whines at the empty feeling.

Dean walks into the bathroom, comes out with a wet cloth and stops short before the bed, his gaze is on hers and it’s intense. She feels exposed and wants to bring her knees together when he speaks, “No, don’t. You’re beautiful. Can I take a picture now?” He get back on the bed, grinning cockily, “Make it my home screen?” 


	17. Chapter XVII

Dean wakes up before she does. He lets her sleep, walks out of the room quietly to make some coffee. He feeds the cat, actually wants to fix up breakfast but he doesn’t know how long she’ll be sleeping so he abandons the thought. Instead, he sits down and waits until the time will be reasonable enough to wake her up.

It’s when he sits down at the counter of his kitchen and takes the first sip of his coffee that he thinks that _this is it_. 

It’s exactly what it should feel like. A simple morning. Waking up, making coffee, and he’s able to share all of it with someone. 

He’s able to share it with her.

If someone would ask him what love feels like, he’d say it’s something just like this.

He really did want to take a picture last night. Was taken aback by the beauty of her in his bed. Blissed out and spit slick, cheeks so pink it matches the color of her cunt. His cum glistening and running out of her pussy. It was perfect.

Of course she didn’t let him. Because apparently, that’s creepy.

He walks to his other bathroom, takes a quick shower there so as not to wake her up because this way, he doesn’t have to walk through the bedroom. 

  
  


*

  
  


After the shower, he walks around with no shirt and no underwear because he forgot to grab it before he left the room. Now he’s in only his sweatpants. Dean takes his phone, thumbs at his messages. Cas texted that the schedule is full for people watching Jo and Dean didn’t have to go in, and it’s kind of a relief because he’ll have more time with her. 

It’s almost 1PM when he thinks that he maybe should go see if she’s still alive. Dean’s awake for a long while now and he starts to get restless. He’s wondering if it was okay for him to go back to bed, cozying himself up against her but he really doesn’t want to wake her up, doesn’t know if she might get grumpy and if yes, he doesn’t want to be the reason. 

He’s only slept 4 hours, tops. But it felt like ten. He’s in a surprisingly good mood and not tired at all.

The cat’s already nuzzling around by the door, as if he knows that Dean wants to go in there.

As soon as Dean opens the door, the cat’s already on the bed and lies down next to her. 

“Traitor.” Dean whispers. “I should kick you out.”

The cat ignores Dean like it always does, and licks at her fingers instead. He lets the cat licks her awake and walks to the bathroom to draw a bath.

Walking out, she sees Y/N smiling at him. “Hey,”

“Hi,” He can’t stop the beating of his heart, and has long given up on calming it down.

He climbs in next to her, spoons her from behind and kisses her neck. “How are you feeling? Slept alright?”

“Yeah,” Her hand strokes the cat behind its ear. “And you?” She tilts her head back and he props himself on his elbow to look at her. “Nightmares?”

He kisses her forehead, smiles a little. “None.”

She smiles back at him, turns around in his grip, her arms around his body and he pulls her close to his chest. 

“Are you sore?”

“A little.”

“Come on,” He pulls her even closer to his chest, rolls with her until they’ve reached the edge of the bed. He picks her up, still wrapped in the sheets and walks to the bathroom with her draped over his shoulder. 

She’s laughing wholeheartedly. What a beautiful thing to hear.

Dean drops her off, unwraps her from the sheets and helps her into the bath, careful not to take a better look because he’s half hard already. He doesn’t wanna do anything, not if she’s sore. And it’s hard, so fucking hard to resist. Never thought he’d have it in him, never thought he could have this much control over himself.

Y/N sits down in the bath, the foam reaches her throat and he turns the water off. “You're not coming in?” She looks at him a little disappointed, and god dammit, his self control is crumbling.

He kneels next to the tub, bracing his hands on the ledge. “I already took a shower. And it’s better that way. I have control over myself out here, can’t guarantee anything if I get in there.”

She grins, it’s all cocky and it’s not fair that it suits her. “I mean, I don’t mind.”

“Christ,” He exhales, rubs his palm over his face and then he has an inner battle with himself. Common sense wins. “No, you’re sore. You stew in your bath. I’ll be waiting outside.” It takes every ounce in him not to jump right in but someone has got to be reasonable here. Never in his mind would Dean have thought that the reasonable one would be him, though.

She pouts. And that’s not fucking fair either.

“I’ll just ignore you,” He says and stands up. 

Her eyes are glued to his crotch and she bites her lips. 

“My god you’re killing me.” He says, bends down to kiss her forehead. “I’ll be outside.”

He walks out, leaving her and it’s hard, so hard to walk away when all he wants to do is stay. There’s a perfect naked girl sitting in his tub, asking him if he wanted to join and he just fucking walks away. The old Dean certainly wouldn’t. But the old Dean also never felt these fucking feelings and it takes every ounce of self control in him not to get in and fuck her stupid. 

Dean gets dressed, wearing underwear, new slacks, new dress shirt. Pulls out a matching jacket to his dress pants, wonders if he should let her choose a tie for him, abandons the thought because he decided not to wear one today. He doesn’t have a meeting where he needs one. Just the usual rounds of checking on products and resellers. If anything he’d probably need a hazmat suit to protect his suit from blood and product stains. He’s got to still find a way to tell her that he’s gonna be out of town for a day or two, though.

He makes the bed, but the cat doesn’t even budge, still lying in the warmth she’s left. Dean can’t blame him, it’s what he would love to do, too. Nonetheless he stares the cat down, “You know that you’re not allowed in here.” 

The cat yawns, lifts his head and sends him a deadpan look as if to challenge Dean. As if he wants to say _So? Whatchu gonna do about it, huh?_

Dean rolls his eyes and walks out, stops at the bathroom door in passing. “You want breakfast?” 

“You’re making breakfast?” She asks in return, and looks at him, her hands on her head as she massages shampoo into her hair. 

_God, would it really be bad to take a picture?_

“Omelettes.” He says, leans against the door frame and purses his lips to a grin, feels a little proud of his cooking skills. 

“Sounds perfect.” She says and he nods at that. 

He doesn’t dare to walk in because his self control is held together by an extra thin wire at the sight. Her tits are above the water and foam, looks fucking inviting as they jingle when she washes her hair. 

  
  


*

  
  


She sits down at the counter and Dean serves her omelette, adding three strips of bacon onto her plate and three on his. He’d had more but he ended up eating them while he waited for her. 

“I feel spoiled.” She says, taking a bite out of a strip of bacon. 

Dean pours her coffee and orange juice and sits beside her to eat with her. “Well, you’re a princess. A bratty one, but still…” 

He sees her cheek turn pink. Cutest little thing. 

“What are your plans for today?” Dean asks, he’s just curious, is hoping that he maybe can spend some time with her. 

“Was thinking about going to the gym or jogging in the park.” 

“I have a gym in the bunker.” He says, his ears are burning a little because he’s blushing and he thinks she sees through him. Knows that he suggested it because he wants to spend more time with her, “We could go there. Do some sparring.” 

“I don’t have any gym gear with me.” 

“You don’t need them for sparring.” 

She grins then, “I don’t have any underwear.”

Dean couldn’t hide the irritation that built in his throat and it came out as a groan. He stands up abruptly, takes their empty plates, mugs and glasses and places them into the machine, cleans his hand and walks up behind her. He braces his hands on the counter, lowers his face so his mouth is next to her ear. 

“Let’s go buy some.” 

He places a kiss on her temple, couldn’t not do it, is drawn to her and feels the need to touch her when she’s close. She tilts her head to look up at him, rolls her eyes and he just winks.

  
  
  


_____________________________

  
  
  
  


Dean has parked his car at the curb, and gets out. Today is an Impala kind of day, apparently. Y/N gets out too, doesn’t wait for him to open up for her but he walks around the front hastily, holds the door open wider until she’s out completely. 

She looks at the store they parked at. It’s a high end lingerie store and she swallows. A bra probably costs more than she makes in a month at her bartending job. 

He slams the door to his car close, stands here and holds out his hand for her to take. 

She does but shakes her head, “We can’t go in there.” 

The store’s busy. There’s always coming and going, mostly the customers are women. Good looking women. Women who are dressed properly. Not in a faded out stone washed jean skirt and a white shirt with alcohol stains on it. 

“Why not?” He asks, and she feels that he’s a little offended that she thinks his idea of a store might not match hers.

“Look at you!” Y/N says and Dean looks down to himself. “You’re looking like a perfect walking ad for some expensive perfume and then there’s me. I look like I just came out of a very rough frat party where I did more rounds of beer pongs than I could take.” She makes a frustrating sound in her throat.

Dean’s grip on her hand tightens and he throws his head back, laughing out loud. People on the streets are already staring, which makes this even more uncomfortable. 

She looks down at her toes. Yeah, she also wears boots. And all the women going in and out of the store wore pretty high heels. “And my boots.”

“Hey, at least you didn’t wear cowboy boots.” Dean winks at her, a grin on his face like the little shit he is. 

“Shut up.” She pouts deliberately, kind of knows what effect it has on him. 

“Hey,” He pushes his fingers under her chin, tilts her head up. “We’ll be alright. Do you think it’s easy for me to go in there? If people will stare, they will stare at me.” 

And maybe he’s right… but still. 

“I have this big hickey on my throat.”

Dean raises an eyebrow at that, “So?”

“They’ll think you’re my sugar daddy.” She mumbles. 

Dean grins, kisses her pout. “Do you want me to be your sugar daddy?” 

Her eyes widened and he chuckles before he adds, “Just saying, sweetheart. At this point, I’m ready to be whatever you want me to be.”

He takes her hand, ignores the red in her cheeks and pulls her towards the entrance of the store.

  
  
  


*

  
  
  


“Dean, I can’t try anything on, I’m not wearing underwear.” She whispers, as he ushers her to the back where the changing rooms are situated. 

“We’ll just have to buy everything you try on.” He says as if it’s no fucking big deal. 

_Ugh._

Dean leads her into a changing room, sits right in front of it as a woman comes around to ask what they want. Dean takes the lead, telling her to bring a ton of different panties in Y/N’s size.

Soon the stack arrives and she closes the curtain to the changing room, Dean’s grinning smugly. Before the curtain closes, she sees him taking out his phone, is sure that he’s going to probably do some work when she tries things on. 

She tries a pink lace panty first, quite likes it because it’s different from the lace she buys. Some expensive shit, she guesses. She glances at the price tag, and suddenly feels very nauseous because she’s not gonna make him spend so much money on freaking fabric. 

But she figured that since she’s already wearing this pair, she might as well keep it on because there’s no way the store’s going to take it back. She peeks through the curtain, calling Dean to come in. 

He raises an eyebrow, pockets his phone back into his pants and slips in like it’s no big deal, even when people are watching. 

Dean sits on the leather seat in the too big changing room and leans his back against the wall. “What’s wrong?”

She had already put on her skirt over the panties. “I can’t let you buy these. Have you seen the price tags?” Her fingers point at the stack of panties which she didn’t even touch yet.

“Don’t worry about it.” Dean brushes it off like it’s really not a big fucking deal.

“Well, I’m already wearing one, so I guess you have to buy this.” She lifts up her skirt to show it to him. 

“Christ, Y/N.” Dean lets out, his eyes fall on the curtain, sees that it’s secured, so he turns his face back to her and in the next breath he talks, his voice a little deeper, “Lose the skirt. I wanna see.”

She loses the skirt, steps out of it and turns around. There’s a mirror in front of her. She pulls her panties up on the side. Looking into the mirror, she sees Dean looking at her ass, his hands coming up to knead her cheeks.

“Fucking perfect,” He spanks both her cheeks with both of his big hands and she has to bite down on her bottom lip so as not to make a sound. 

“Come here,” He pats his thighs and she’s about to climb in but then he says “No, turn around. Feet on my knees, head on my shoulder.” 

She does what he’s telling her, feels a little weird since they’re in public.

“Look at you,” Dean whispers next to her ear, his nose nudging at her cheeks. She knows now what he’s talking about, sees their reflection in the mirror. 

His finger finds the seam of the crotch of her panties, pulls them aside, revealing her pussy that’s indeed so fucking soaked already. He takes her in, watches her through the mirror, but he doesn’t touch her where she aches for him. Instead, he lets his finger wander, strokes the back of her thighs, up and down, slowly. 

Too fucking slow. 

“Dean,” It came out whiny, she doesn’t even care. 

“You want me to touch you?” His voice drops, it’s barely a whisper next to her ear. 

“Uh-huh,” 

“Uh-huh? Right here in this changing room? Where everyone could come in and see you?” 

He cups her pussy with his right hand and she gasps. 

Dean chuckles, the pad of his fingers rubs at her clit and she closes her eyes. “No, baby,” He says, his voice is strained, she feels the bulge underneath her ass. “I want you to look at yourself. Such a beautiful sight.”

She opens her eyes, her lids are heavy. 

“You’re so wet,” He whispers. “Does it feel good, huh?” 

“Yea—” The word gets chopped off, because he pushes two fingers inside. “—Fuck.” 

“Good girl,” Dean says, “So responsive.” He curves his fingers just right, but avoids going too deep. 

She thinks it’s because he thinks she’s still sore and partly because she might squirt and that would be really messy.

He rubs at her clit with three of the fingers of his left hand while he fucks her steadily with his right hand, all the while whispering to her.

“You like that, don’t you? Knowing that someone could walk in on us and see me fucking you with my fingers.” 

It’s a turn on she’s ashamed to admit. 

“My god, my fingers are drenched. I think you dripped onto my pants. Not gonna change them, though. Gotta walk around let people see how wet you were for me,” He sucks in her earlobe and she let out a broken moan.

“Gotta be quiet, baby.” 

Y/N nods, biting down on her lips. 

“Yeah, good girl.” He says, nosing at the back of her ear and it sends chills throughout her body. “Can you come for me? You’re close, I can feel it.” 

“Uh-huh,”

“Uh-huh? Come and look at yourself, I want you to see what I see when I look at you. Want you to see how beautiful you look when you come undone.” 

“K-keep on rubbing.” She manages to whisper. “Just like that, yes..”

Dean chuckles, rubs her faster. 

She comes with a shriek and Dean rubs and fucks her through it, holding her up by literally the tips of his fingers as she writhes above him. 

“You’re fucking amazing.” He’s breathing hard himself, and she tilts her head, looking him in his darkened eyes. 

He kisses her, deep, messy and just perfect. 

After a while he pulls his fingers out of her, the squelching sound loud in the room and she can’t hold back the whine she lets out. He stands up then, helping her back onto her feet, holds her to him when he sees that she’s still struggling. “You okay?” 

“Yeah, thanks.” She looks up and he’s smiling before he helps her take off the pair of pink lace panties she’s wearing. He lets her get out of them before bending down to pick them off the floor and proceeds to clean the mess between her legs with them. 

“Dean!” She scolds.

He shrugs, “Gotta pay them anyway?” Then he adds, “Right, I gotta wait outside before I’m doing something I’m not supposed to do in here. And shut up, I know that we weren’t supposed to do what we just did either. You pick out the ones you want, okay?” 

She nods, and watches him tear at the price tag on the lace underwear before letting the fabric slip into the pocket of his suit jacket. He winks before he steps out, and to say that she blushes is an understatement. Her face is on fire.


	18. Chapter XVIII

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for the lovely feedback, it means so much, since this is story is my go-to when I get a quiet moment. xx

Dean drives them to the bunker and she thinks that he deliberately drives in circles, most likely it’s because he tries to make sure that they weren’t followed. She kind of hates it because she has now completely lost her sense of orientation. 

They then drive into a tunnel until they come to a garage door that opens automatically.

He sighs before he parks his car at the only empty spot. There were a lot of cars. She wonders if they’re all his. His expression is cold, somehow he is unreadable, as if something is bothering him.

“Is something wrong?” She asks. Couldn’t not ask. 

“There are too many cars. They’re having a freaking party and I’m not really happy about it.” He answers grumpily. “Come on.” 

“But, should I be going in? I mean, I’m not.. You know...” She gestures with her hands. She knows that he must know what she means. 

“It’s okay, you’re with me.” He says, his voice is audibly softer.

They get out and he takes her hand as they walk along the cars to a door at the end of the garage. Dean stops shortly before opening it, turns to her and places the hand that’s not holding hers on the back of her neck, lowering himself a little to be able to look her in the eye. 

“Listen, I want you to know something, alright?”

She nods as she looks him in the eye. 

Dean Winchester’s eyes are the greenest of green.

“Just know, when I step through that door, and see my people, that the man you see is not really me, alright?”

“Okay?”

“All I’m saying is that you might see a part of me that you don’t like but it’s not really me. It’s just how I have to be, how they need me to be, you understand?”

“I guess.” 

“Good. Because apart from Sam, you’re the only one who knows how I really am.” He says, and then he grins. “Let me steal a kiss before we go in.” 

  
  


*

  
  


They walk into chattering, it’s like they really have a party. People mingling, talking, laughing, drinking. However, the voices died down as soon as they heard Dean and her approach. 

“What the fuck is going on here?” Dean says and he’s angry, she can feel it. He lets go of her hand as he makes his way down the stairs but waits for her at the bottom. 

“Dean,” Sam says, “Cas mixed up some names for the schedule and suddenly people start to stay when they should be gone and because they hadn’t seen each other for a long time, they were sitting together and before I knew it, it morphed into this.” 

“Great. What is this? A fucking intervention?” 

“Hey, it’s nobody’s fault.” Sam says, and it’s like he just notices her now, nods at her before returning his focus on Dean. 

Y/N scans the faces around her, doesn’t know all the people, only saw a handful of them maybe, but there must be at least a dozen of them in a room that looks like it could be a library. 

“I want everyone who doesn’t have a business being here gone.” Dean growls. 

“But,” Inias throws in but doesn't say anything else because Dean’s sending him death glares. 

“EVERYONE. OUT. NOW!” He shouts, the sound of his voice makes her flinch. She’s never seen him so angry before.

Slowly, people start to move. It’s like they know how Dean can be. Some of them didn’t even bat an eye, just leave without a word.

“Why is she here?”

The voice is familiar and she looks at the source to see Amara.

“She’s with me.” Dean says calmly. 

Amara snorts out a laugh. “Nice skirt. Where did you get it? Thrift shop? Goodwill?” She looks back to Dean and Y/N’s sure that Amara couldn’t have missed the stains on Dean’s dress pants because Amara purses her lips into a straight line.

“Move along Amara, and don’t forget your shovel.” Dean jumps in. 

He actually didn’t have to, it’s not like she can’t defend herself, somehow she’s still glad that he did. 

“My what?” Amara asks, looking back, one foot already on the stairs.

“The shovel you use when you dig for fucking gold.” 

Sam and Cas lower their faces, laugh to themselves and she looks over to see Amara’s red face. “You are a fucking moron, Dean Winchester. And that hurt.” 

“Well, do you think your words didn’t hurt when you say shit like that to my girl? Think before you speak! It’s not fucking rocket science!” 

“Your what?” 

Y/N thinks she sees Amara’s throat turn red too.

Dean looks at Amara. He’s annoyed, she can see it on his face. “Oh, you heard me fine, Amara. Don’t act like you didn’t.” 

“What’s so special about her, huh?”

“Do you want a list?” He asks, “I could mail it to you by tonight. Hope you’re up for a good read.”

Amara turns to Y/N then, and Y/N knows she could talk back but she doesn’t feel that it’s her place. “He’s nice isn’t he?” Amara whispers, “Tells you things you want to hear. Sweet things, right? Too bad he doesn’t mean it, though.”

“Amara,” Dean growls and it’s a warning. 

“Fine, I’ll leave.” 

Dean then turns to Cas. “Who’s with her?” 

She knows who _her_ is, even if Dean doesn’t say the name.

“Jess.” Sam says, “We’ll be out in a minute.”

“It’s okay, you can stay.” 

“What are you guys doing here?” Sam asks.

“We’re gonna use the gym. You up for a round?” Dean raises his eyebrow. 

“Nah, thanks, don’t wanna beat your old ass again.” 

Dean rolls his eyes, and she can’t help but let out a laugh at that.

  
  


*

  
  


Dean walks her along a corridor and there’s something nagging at her. Something Amara said. 

“So, Amara, huh?” She starts, doesn’t really know why she feels like talking about that bitch.

He stops and sighs, leans his back against the wall. “Knew you’d be thinking about that.”

“Well, I mean, it’s obvious she has a huge crush on you. Did you fuck her too?”

“Does it matter? I don’t know about all the men before me either.”

She gestures with her hands, before holding up three fingers to emphasize it, “There were three okay? Three before you came along! And one of them is a freaking stalker!”

He takes a step towards her, pushes his fingers underneath her chin, making her look up at him. “I didn’t say that I wanna know it, sweetheart, because I would want to kill each and everyone of them for finding you before I did, and I usually do not kill innocent people. We can talk about that stalker though. I can make it look like an accident.” There’s a playful tone in his voice.

She doesn’t smile.

Dean exhales, “Yes, okay, I had sex with Amara. But in my defense, it was at homecoming while still in high school and I was under the influence. Weed and booze. I don’t even really remember it but she’s been coming on to me since.”

“So you just tend to stick your dick in women you and your family work with.”

“Jesus fucking Christ!” Dean rubs over his face. “How did I not make myself clear enough when I said that I only want you?”

“I get it. It’s just too easy to wind you up.” She grins and he’s on her before she can blink, kissing her hard and fast.

He breaks the kiss to come up for air, leaves his forehead on hers. “One of these days, you’re going to give me a heart attack. I hope you’ll be happy about it.”

Dean takes her hand, walks her down the hall until they reach the gym. It’s sparse, mats on the floor, some cardio machines, weights and punching bags. 

He closes the door behind him and walks to the adjacent room. “I’ll change and you can just... lose your skirt?” He says it with an amused look, as if it’s really funny. She rolls her eyes at that but he didn’t see it, is already in the room and she can hear him opening a bag.

He walks out as she’s stretching, warming up because it’s what she always does before she’s doing any kind of sports. Her dad always thought it’s important to warm up and she kind of sticks to her routine. 

“God dammit, Y/N!” Dean growls as he sees her.

She’s bent down, her ass on full display because she chose a thong from the stack of panties to wear after Dean slipped out of the changing room in the store.

“What’s wrong?” She asks, stretching her arm behind her body. 

“You know what’s wrong,” He says, walking closer and spanks her ass with his right hand, leaves it there and kneads her ass roughly. She hates to admit that she loves it. Loves to be spanked, it’s a whole new side of her that she’s discovering. “I bought you so many panties and you choose to wear a thong? It might as well not be there!”

“What’s wrong with that?” She grins and knows it’s cocky. 

He lets out a frustrated groan, “One day, you’re going to kill me or make me kill someone for you and you’ll be on the stand and all you will say is ‘what’s wrong with that?’ with that look in your eyes and you know what’s really disturbing about it? Everyone will think that nothing’s wrong with it. All of the jury will think that you’re right because there’s not one single thing wrong with it.”

“That’s a nice story. So you gonna keep on talking or will you let me kick your ass?”

Dean’s eyes widens. “You’re unbelievable.”

“Ready to get laid, Winchester?” She asks, turning herself around and he places his hands on her waist, pulls her closer so that she can feel his half hard cock.

“Ready whenever you are, sweetheart.”

  
  


_____________________________

  
  
  


Her movements are fast, she’s good but Dean’s stronger. He goes easy on her though.

It isn't long until he has her pinned onto her back.

“You lost.” He says, bends down to give her a kiss and that’s a rookie mistake because she’s incredibly strong for such a small girl. 

Before he knows it, she has her legs around his waist and turns them around so she’s on top. Her knees pressing his arms to the mat on either side and she’s sitting on top of his chest. 

“No, _you_ lost.” She says triumphantly her face beams and who is Dean if he doesn’t give her that win. 

Her cheeks are flushed, it’s really red, her hair’s standing out in all different directions. It really shouldn’t turn him on as much as it does.

“Okay, okay, you won. Happy?” 

“Yes,”

Dean looks up at her, sees her smiling down at him, he’s still turned on very much, even more so when she grins so fucking cockily. And then he has an idea. “So since I lost, I think I have to go down on you.” 

“You what?”

Dean wiggles his eyebrows. “Come on, sit on my face.”

“I’m not gonna smother you. You’ll die!” She laughs, as if she really thinks he’s joking.

“Then it’s a great death! Come on now, hop on!” He signals with his hands for her to straddle him.

“Dean, I don—”

“—Would you please for once do what I say?”

“Okay but if you should not get enough air and die, I’ll get the Impala.”

“I give you my apartment and Cuddles on top of it.”

“Fine!” She says, moves up his chest and hovers above his mouth. 

“Sit down.” He says, but she’s still not sure about that. “I’ll tap out.” He adds, to reassure her.

She sits down softly and he immediately starts to mouth at her clit through her panties. And he was right before, they might as well not be there because it’s so thin and he can even taste her through it.

His fingers hook around the waistband, and he didn’t even use too much force but the fabric falls apart. So much money wasted. He thought that they would at least last a day.

“Dean! They’re new!”

“I’m not sorry,” He mumbles into her crotch and then pushes the fabric out of the way to lap at her delicious pussy, swirls his tongue around her clit, sucking it in and nibbles at it. Knows that it drives her fucking crazy. 

“Fuck,” She breathes out, leans back a little, braces her hands on his chest and starts to ride his face like a dirty cowgirl. “That feels so good.”

Dean hums his approval, making her moan some more. Tries not to laugh because even though she was reserved at first, she starts to love it now.

He sticks his tongue out, lets her grind on him, her hand in his hair, pushing his face against her pussy. He never pegged her down to be so demanding when she’s on top, certainly not when she’s riding his face but yet here they are and fuck, he’s loving every second of it. 

She’s grinding hard, uses him for her own pleasure and there’s a time when he really has trouble breathing but he didn’t do anything, didn’t make her stop. Would have been a great way to pass out.

It doesn’t take long for her to come on his face, she can let herself fall and reach orgasm so easily. He likes that, a lot, it’s a huge turn on. That way he could really really test out how many it takes for her to reach her limit.

“Oh my god, I drenched you!” She says as she climbs off him, her hands rub at his face, trying to get the slick off and cleans the hand on her leg. 

“Come on, let’s take a shower to get it off properly. And who knows I might get you off again.” He stands up, pulls her along with him.

“Dean! You already gave me two orgasms in the span of two hours. I don’t think I have any more left in me.” 

“Is that a challenge?” He laughs, picks her up and throws her over his shoulder as he makes his way out towards the showers. His hand on her thighs and her bare ass, spanking her some more, for good measure.

“I’m not wearing underwear!” She punches at his back.

“Relax! Nobody will see you here. They’re all on the other side of the bunker.”

  
  


*

  
  


Dean turns on the shower head. It’s a big open space with a couple of showers lined next to one another but he figures they’ll only need one. 

He peels himself out of his shirt, shorts and underwear, stands there naked, his dick hard from letting her ride his face. What does it really say about him that he enjoys himself this much while his only intention was to get _her_ off?

Getting under the spray, he lets the water wash away the slick from his face, and then he looks at her, she’s still hesitating. 

“You coming?” He asks, raises an eyebrow and then adds, “No pun intended.” Snorts out a laugh because that was really funny. “Well, maybe a little pun. We’ll see.” 

She rolls her eyes and he thinks it’s cute how much he can annoy her but she still isn’t really weirded out by it. 

“You sure nobody is going to come in here?” She asks, her hands are crossed over her body. 

“Well, someone will come in here if you know what I mean.” He’s laughing at his own lame joke but then he gets serious. “No, sweetheart. No one will even walk past this room.” He thinks about the last time someone came to shower in here. Only remembers that it’s him and occasionally Sam. 

“Okay,” She says, and Dean thinks it’s more like she’s saying it to herself than to him. 

Y/N takes off her top and her bra, steps into the shower spray with him and he hugs her to his chest, his hands on her ass. Yeah, he can’t not touch that sweet ass. 

He bends down, picks her up, makes her hook her feet behind his back and her arms fly around his neck as he whispers, “Besides, we found out that it turns you on when someone could be walking in on us, didn’t we?” 

She buries her face in the crook of his neck, even with the warm water, they are warmer against his skin. He thinks it’s so cute when she’s embarrassed. 

And Dean feels like he can’t not. Can’t not press her against the shower wall, can’t not kiss her and sneaking his hand between them, can’t not push two fingers inside. He feels her tensing at the intrusion, but soon she begins to relax.

“You still sore?” 

“Nuh-uh,” 

“Is it okay if I use another finger?” He kisses her cheek, the corner of her lips as she nods her approval.

He lines his third finger up at the entrance, goes in so slow it hurts himself more than the stretch will hurt her, mutters a _fuck_ through his gritted teeth. Thinks he’s probably never going to get used to how tight and wet she is.

“So good, baby. Such a good girl,” He whispers as he sucks at her throat and he moves his fingers, in and out, getting faster with every move and he feels her heels digging into the flesh at his back. 

His thumbs press into the front, rubbing at her clit and the position they’re in is not really comfortable but he’s not going to change because she’s moaning so sweet and it damn near breaks his heart with how much he wants her.

Hooking his fingers up he moves faster, harder, hears the squelching sound of wetness that he’s sure isn’t coming from the running showerhead above them. His fingers are already drenched in slick. 

“Fuck, look at you,” He says, his voice low, a little strained from the excessive work of his fingers inside of her. 

There it is, the tight squeeze that almost pushes his fingers out of her and her legs cramp around his middle, nearly breaking him in half. He takes his fingers out quickly as her cum shoots out of her, lines his hard cock up and carves his way in. It’s tight, so fucking tight with her still coming but if it’s not worth it, he’d be lying. 

Y/N’s blunt nails dig into his back, and he thinks she might even leave marks, but he doesn’t care. How could he, when she’s coming so fucking prettily with his name on her lips. Wants to record it, set it as his ringtone for when she calls him but knows that she’ll give him hell for it. 

He pushes her up a little further against the wall, so that her cunt lines up perfectly for him to fuck up into. She has her eyes closed.

“How are you feeling?” He asks her, kisses the top of her head, one of his hands leaves her thigh to pinch at her nipple. 

Her eyes fly open and she gives him a smile, “Good,” 

“Too much?”

“No, you can go harder and deeper. Love it when you go deep.” 

_Fucking hell, this girl._

He’s close to creaming when she talks like this.

Dean follows through, goes in deeper, deeper than he dared last night. Watches her face while doing it for any signs of discomfort. There was a flinch, a swift crease of eyebrows. 

“You okay?” 

“Stop asking me if I’m okay and start fucking me, Dean.” 

His eyes widens and he kisses between her eyebrows, “Such. A. Fucking. Brat.” He says, emphasizing each word with a thrust of his hips, fucks so deep he feels like her cunt’s going to bite off the tip of his dick. 

“Fuck,” She breathes out, bites down on her bottom lip. 

“Can you come again, baby? Come for me?” He asks because he’s so fucking close already and he wants to feel her coming on his cock just one more time.

“I don’t know,” She says, but one of her hands leaves his neck and goes down to rub at her clit. 

“Yeah, just like that, touch yourself for me,” He says, kisses her as deep as he fucks her but not for long because he’s quite out of breath. “You’re fucking amazing.”

“Dean, I...shit,” 

“That’s okay, baby, I got you.” 

She lets herself go, he can feel her pulsing around his cock, loves the tight squeeze, becomes addicted to it in such a short span of time.

Dean follows her over the edge, comes so deep and hard inside her he thinks his soul left his body for a minute. 

He laughs, his forehead on her, still panting hard. They’re both out of breath. “Jesus Christ, Y/N, you’re fucking perfect. You know that?” 

She doesn’t say anything, buries her face in his throat. 

“Let’s get ourselves cleaned up before I get hard again and fuck you raw.” 

“Is that a threat?” She opens up her eyes to squint at him and yeah, this fucking girl will kill him one day.


	19. Chapter XIX

Dean drives Y/N home to his place because she still has her car there. And it’s hard to concentrate next to him because he has his shirt folded back, revealing his forearm in the process. She can see every vein, every muscle moving, every freckle on the skin she knows is soft, can see the tense in his jaw when the traffic is slow. 

He tilts his head towards her when he sees her watching him, smiles a little and rests his hand on her thigh, squeezing and stroking her. “What is it?” 

“Nothing,” She lies.

Because that’s the thing. She can’t possibly say that she loves him, can she? Love is such a strong word but she enjoys being with him, enjoys his hands on her, his fingers _in_ her. Enjoys how he can annoy the fuck out of her, enjoys that she can wind him up. Enjoys the way he talks to her in bed. Enjoys how much he cares because nobody did ever care. Not the same level as he does. 

Dean raises an eyebrow but doesn’t say anything, just keeps on driving. That’s also something she likes. The way he never questions her further when he knows that she doesn’t want to talk about it. 

He parks in the garage and they get out. “You coming up before you leave? I need to ask you something.” 

She wonders what he wants to ask her. Is he breaking up with her? Because that would be a lame move to fuck her first. “Yeah, sure.” 

All her worries subside when he crowds her against the elevator wall and smiles down at her before he kisses her soft and sweet.

Y/N knows that she should be leaving now since she needs to go home to get changed and there’s still Linda she needs to talk to before she has to be back at the Roadhouse. They step inside and immediately Cuddles comes running towards her, meows until she picks him up and strokes his head. 

“Right.” Dean huffs out, “He’s apparently your cat now.”

“Shush,” She says, rubs her nose to the cats. “I’m just nicer to him and call him by his name.”

“So the thing I want to talk to you about,” Dean takes off a key from his key chain. “I have to go out of town to check on some logistics. I’ll be back in a day, two tops.”

“Okay?” She sends him a questioning look. Wonders why he’s telling her that.

“Would it be okay for you to check up on him?” He points his chin towards Cuddles.

“Dean, he has a name!” 

“Fine,” Dean rolls his eyes. “Would you please look after Cuddles when I’m gone?”

“Uh..” She pretends to think about it. “Yeah, sure.” 

Dean exhales heavily. 

Did he really think she wouldn’t do it? 

“Great,” He says, “You could maybe come here after your shift, and I don’t know, stay until you have to go in again so you don’t have to drive around that much.” 

It’s more of a mumble the way he talks, and she thinks it’s cute. 

“Okay, sounds good.”

He smiles, “Yeah?”

“Of course.”

“Okay,” He hands the key to her and some device kinda thing. “This one’s to get into the garage. And that’s the key to the apartment. I’ll restock the fridge. Feel free to use everything you want.”

“Wait, you don’t have any cameras set up to watch me while I’m here, do you? Like hypothetically, if I would dance around naked, would you see that? Would that be on the internet?”

He laughs, “No, I don’t.” He kisses her forehead and Cuddles let out a little hiss. “Hey, you’re supposed to be my cat!” He tells the cat but then turns his attention to her. “Although I’d love to see you dancing naked around my apartment. No, but you’re safe.”

“Good,” She breathes relief.

“I have someone watching you, though. So don’t freak out about that.”

“Adam?”

“No.”

“Awe, I quite liked Adam.” 

“You don’t even know Adam.”

“But I would like to get to know him.” She grins and winks.

Cuddles jumps out of her arm, walks over to his food and Dean takes the opportunity to grab her around her waist to pull her closer. “You wanna make me jealous?”

“Are you?” She wraps her arms around his neck, kisses his jaw, working her way up to his lips. 

“Dammit, I can never let you leave if you don’t stop this.”

“Alright, alright.” She snorts out a laugh, and they part but he’s still holding her close.

  
  


***

  
  


She goes home to pack her things, because she’s going to be staying at Dean’s for a couple of nights until he’s back. While she does some packing, she calls Linda and puts her on speaker. 

“Wow, you’re still alive!” Linda says and it’s good that she can’t see Y/N rolling her eyes.

“I was just busy, I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay, I heard from Meg, she said Winchester talked about you and thinks very highly of you.”

Y/N bites on her bottom lip. So Meg is Miss unicorn bikini. “You brought Meg into this? Where is she working?”

“Yeah, we had to. It’s better to have all fronts covered. She’s working in one of Crowley’s club. Doesn’t really specializes on Winchester but also on the others who frequent there.”

“What did Winchester say about me?” She closes her eyes, hopes that Meg didn’t tell Linda about things Y/N doesn’t want her to know. 

“Just that he’s probably very attracted to you.” 

_Ah._

“I mean, he’s a good looking guy.” She says then. 

“Y/N, please don’t tell me you have a crush on him? I’d have to pull you out.”

“No, no. It’s not like that.”

“Good. Listen, I’m trying to get someone into his organization. Like for real.”

“Don’t.” Y/N says. “Not now.”

“Why’s that?”

“Listen, I know that there’s a snitch. Someone’s working as a double agent for Lucifer and Winchester. He found out and now he doesn’t trust anyone. It wouldn’t be wise to get someone in right now.”

“You’re probably right.” Linda says, her voice is surprisingly calm but adds, “Where do I place this guy though?”

“Who?”

“Arthur Ketch. He came as a weird exchange thing between us and the MI6. They promised him some great adventure.”

“Ugh.” Y/N exhales. 

“You can pretend he’s your estranged brother from another mother who went to live with relatives in England.”

“Linda,” It’s a warning. “No. Find something else for him.”

She can hear the older woman breathing out. “I know. I’ll try, the pressure from above grows.”

“I’ll try my best on my end, okay? Please give me time. Any news about the big coup?” Y/N asks, kind of trying to avert the conversation away from the subject of Dean and her. 

“Meg found out that it’s been postponed back a couple of months. Something with logistics and not finding the right people on time.”

Oh, that’s why Dean has to go and check for himself.

“Okay, will you update me? I’ll try to listen around here too.”

“Of course. Take care, alright?”

“I will, Linda.”

She hangs up, puts her phone on the charger and continues packing. She doesn’t feel good lying to Linda. Not at all. But she can’t not lie about it. 

Y/N sighs. It’s a fucking mess.

  
  


***

  
  


Around 9PM, Dean walks in with Cas and she’s a bit taken aback because she didn’t think she’d be seeing him for a couple of days. 

He smiles when he walks towards the bar. 

Y/N sees that he’s changed his pants, probably because he has to look presentable and should avoid wearing pants with stains on them. Not that he ever did not look presentable, though.. And right about now? He looks like a fucking main course and it’s not fair. Not fair that he has to leave, and not fucking fair that even though she’s been fucked twice in 24hours that she still wants more, feels empty on the inside and as soon as she sees Dean, she starts to clench down there and it’s around nothing. 

It’s a whole new feeling. She never had this before. Never enjoyed sex that much, and to be fair, none of her previous partners made her feel the way Dean makes her feel. And that again, ain’t fucking fair.

He nods at the guy in black who’s been here and has watched her since her shift started. She didn’t bother to ask him for a name. 

“Why the pout?” Dean asks when he came to stand beside her, his fingers pushing under her chin, tilting her head up. 

“I’m frustrated.” She says, because it’s the truth. 

There’s a crease between his eyebrows, he also purses his lips, making his dimples shown. “About what?”

“That you look so good,” She mumbles, and adds, “And that you’re leaving.”

Dean thumbs over her pout, pushes the finger between her teeth when she opens her mouth for him. “Fuck,” He mutters, “You certainly aren’t making it easy for me either. And you’re wearing a damn skirt again."

“Well, welcome to my world.” And then it’s like she only realizes it now that Dean had no business being here when he should be leaving, so she asks, “Why are you here?” 

“Came to get Ash. Well, actually, Ash could have come over himself but I wanted to see you.” He says it like it’s the most normal thing, without turning red or anything and that, frustrates her, too.

She raises an eyebrow at that and he chuckles, thumbing at it to bring it down again before he bends down to kiss her. “Where’s Ellen?”

“She’s having a headache, and went to lie down for an hour.”

“And Ash?” 

She shrugs, “Haven’t seen him.”

“Okay, wait here.” He says, and walks through the door in the back.

Y/N takes another order, taps some more beer. She can see Castiel talking to the man in black. They seem to be deep in conversation and she wonders what they’re talking about. 

Dean walks back into the bar, his grip around Ash’s collar. “Ash here will take over for a while, aren’t you, Ash?” 

Ash looks at Dean and her and then something clicks in him. “Oh, yeah, sure. But not too long, we should be leaving, you know that.” 

Dean is holding out a hand for her, “Come on,” He mouths at her, and she can’t hide the smile that spreads on her face.

He pushes through the door, walks straight to Ash’s room all while pulling her behind. And damn him and his long legs. She has trouble keeping up.

“What are we doing here?” 

Dean closes the door before he attacks her mouth, kissing her roughly, his big palms cradling her face. 

He loosens the grip on her then, his hands working between them, unbuttoning his suit jacket and takes it off while his lips are still attached to hers. 

Their breathing gets heavy and Dean breaks the kiss, making them take a deep breath to collect themselves.

“What do you want?” He asks her.

She’s a little startled by the question. “What?” 

“I’ll give you everything you want, just tell me what you want.” He talks low, it’s almost a whisper. 

Shit, what does she want? She wants him. That’s what she wants.

Y/N’s hands travel down his body, palms at his dick through his pants and he lets out a broken moan at the touch. 

“I want you to fuck me,” She breathes out.

“Christ!” Dean curses, “We don’t have time to prepare you properly.” He says it like it’s a fact and then he looks around. “And Ash’s room is kinda filthy. I was hoping you’d say that you want me to eat you out.” And then it’s as if she can see that his brain is working, thinks about what to do next and comes up with a plan, as if she can see the bulb lighting up above his head. “Okay, okay.”

Dean walks to Ash’s bed, unbuckles his belt and pushes his pants down past his knees along with his underwear. He sits on the bed, signaling for her to come over. His cock is rock hard and leaking. Looks delicious actually and she’d love to have a taste. She never went down on him, never had the chance really because he’d always put her first. And even if she could now, she knows that there’s no time because she’s selfish, she wants it inside of her.

He spits in his hand, strokes himself as he waits, his fingers twist at the tip, it’s mesmerizing to watch. “Get rid of the skirt,” His voice is deep. 

Y/N pushes her skirt down, steps out of them, hooks her fingers through her panties but he interrupts her. 

“No, leave them on. Come here.”

She walks closer and he lifts up her top, kisses her belly. Her hands are in his hair when he looks up, “You’re so beautiful.” 

It sends goosebumps throughout her body.

He rubs her through her panties with one hand, his fingers stroking at her crotch. “Are you wet enough? Fuck, I would eat you out if we had time.” 

“We don’t, so sit back and let me, alright?” She says, a grin on her face. 

“So fucking bratty.” He snorts and helps her climb up onto his lap.

Y/N pushes her panties aside, he keeps her upright, one of his hands behind her back and the other on her ass. She takes him into her hands, enjoys the feel of it and then she starts to stroke him a little. 

Dean breathes hard, “Baby, I don’t think I’ll last. You just turn me on so fucking much. If you keep doing that, I’ll come before I’m inside of you.”

“Okay, okay.. Alright,” She says, panting too. Taking his cock, she places it at her entrance, rubs it over her wetness a couple of times. It feels so good. So good that she’s losing herself in the motion. 

“Will you please, for the love of god, sit on my cock? What you’re doing is pure torture.” He whines and it’s desperate and cute, she almost laughs out loud.

Slowly, she sits down, let the head of his dick breach her entrance and she breathes heavily, balancing out the stretch she feels. 

“Just—” His voice comes out choked, “Fuck— Just go as deep as you want. I’m okay with whatever you want.”

She nods, bottom lip between her teeth as she sinks lower, tries to get him as deep as she can without any preparation. It burns and stings a little when he’s halfway in and she sees him squinting his eyes, his hands behind her gripping at her flesh. He’s trying his best not to fuck up into her, she knows that.

“Okay,” Y/N says, “Okay,” She moves up and down, trying to take in more with each downward movement. She knows that there’s not enough time but she wants to take all of him in, so badly. 

“You’re doing great, baby. That’s it, you’re fine. I got you.” Dean tries to encourage her. 

When she indeed succeeds in sitting down completely, she chuckles out a laugh. Beams from ear to ear. “Oh, wow,” She says, her breathing is heavy. 

“Christ, you feel so fucking good, baby.” Dean pushes a strand of hair out of her face, kisses her, and rests his forehead on hers. “Just go as fast or as slow as you want, alright?”

She nods, “Yeah, okay.” 

His hands are back on her ass, spanks her once and she yelps up in surprise. “More?”

“More.” She answers, riding him slow and deep. 

Dean spanks her two times in a row, his palm big and heavy on her ass as he massages at it after. “You’re incredible, you know that, right?” 

She moans as his cock hits the right spot, tries to angle her hips some more. “Oh fuck,” she breathes, closes her eyes and he presses his lips to her throat. 

“Yeah, right there. That’s it. Good girl.” He whispers, low and dirty, it shouldn’t turn her on so much but it does. 

“Dean,” She says and her fingers find her clit. “I’m—”

One of his hands fly behind her neck, pulling her face closer when he talks, “—That’s alright, sweetheart, come for me, but open your eyes, I wanna see you.” 

It’s like he’s turning a switch on the inside of her, she looks at him, but doesn’t really see him. Her vision is blurred as she comes with a high pitched moan. 

“Good girl,” He praises again and god, she can never get enough of his praises. “Where do you want me to come? In you? Make you feel my cum leaking out of you and run down your legs for the rest of the night?” 

She blushes at the image but yes, it is exactly what she wants. Never in a million year had she thought that she could be this nasty. Could be this turned on by someone talking to her like he does and yet, here she is, “Oh god, please.” 

Her hands are in his hair, pulling him close to kiss him and he comes, quiet but heavy, shuddering all over. 

His head rests on her chest and they’re holding each other. 

“Fuck,” It’s the first thing he says. 

“What?” 

He breathes out a laugh. “I just imagined you serving people with my cum trickling down your thighs and wished that I could stay to see that.” 

She punches his shoulder, laughs a little too. “Right, you should be going.” 

Dean tightens his grip around her waist, “I don’t wanna,” 

“Dean Winchester, you have a business to run.” 

“Alright, alright,” He breathes, kisses her nose and makes her stand up from his lap. “You should lose your underwear, it’s just in the way of my cum dripping down.” But then his face changes, and he adds, “No, actually, don’t. Can’t stand the thought of you serving drinks in a skirt without panties.”

  
  


*

  
  


They walk out into Chaos. The bar filled up and even Cas is now helping out Ash behind the bar because Ash works really really slow.

“Thank fucking god,” Ash says, throws the towel he had over his shoulder into the sink and raises his hand dramatically, “I quit!”

Castiel was by their side. “We need to leave if we want to make it on time, Dean.”

Dean nods, knowing that Castiel is right. Ash’s already halfway through the front door and Castiel follows him. 

Y/N’s back at serving behind the bar when Dean comes up and hugs her from behind, and she turns around in his grip. 

“You have the key?” He asks.

“Yes.”

“The device for the garage?”

“Yes.”

“You know where the cat food is?”

“Yes.”

“You’ll be alright?”

“Yes.”

“Am I stalling?”

She laughs, “Yes.”

“Okay,” He kisses her, once, twice. Chaste, soft. “Be good.” 

“Always.”


	20. Chapter XX

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here's something fluffy to tie you over. And you'll get a glimpse of what lies ahead.

Dean’s man helps her clean up the bar but he didn’t say a word. Only when Y/N asks him his name did he tell her that he’s Gabriel. She wonders what happened to Adam, if Dean’s really jealous and took her jokes seriously to take Adam off this job and delegate him to do something else. Because that wasn’t her intention. 

Gabriel follows her to Dean’s apartment in his own car and even follows her into the garage.

She gets out the same as he gets out of his vehicle. “You didn’t have to come down here, I’m a big girl.”

Gabriel looks at her like he thinks she’s crazy. “I live here.”

“In this building?”

“Yeah, boss provides accommodation. Here, and several other buildings around town.” 

Her jaw opens and she knows she has to close it. After a long while of staring each other down she asks, “How many of you live here?” 

Gabriel shrugs, “About twenty. The rest he rents out.”

“He owns the whole building?”

“Hey woman, you’re with him, you should know.”

Yeah, maybe Gabriel’s right. Maybe she should know. 

“And he decides who lives here and who lives in other buildings?”

“Only people he trusts live here.” Gabriel says it like it’s no big deal.

“Adam?”

“No.”

“Who’s looking after the cat when he’s not around?” She couldn’t help but ask.

“Before you? Sam sometimes Cas, but Cas is allergic to cats. Big boss doesn’t trust anyone else with a key to his apartment.”

“Ah,” She says and she feels her cheeks burning up.

“Listen, it’s late, I wanna go lie down. Will you be okay? Just hit me up tomorrow when you’re leaving for your shift. I’m in apartment 17A.”

“Okay,” She says, and adds, “Thank you.”

  
  
  


*

  
  
  


She turns the key and slips in, turns on the light and immediately, Cuddles is by her side, meowing softly. “Hey Cuddles, I’m gonna stay with you for a couple of days, okay? You hungry?”

Cuddles runs straight to his feeding dish, meows some more and she drops her things in Dean’s bedroom before she returns to feed the cat.

While Cuddles is eating, she stands up, empties the litter box and walks back into the bedroom. “I’m gonna take a shower, alright?” She says to the cat in passing.

Apparently, she talks to cats now.

  
  
  


*

  
  


After her shower, Y/N walks out into the bedroom with a towel around her body. She goes straight to her bag but then she has an idea.

Walking over to Dean’s closet, she opens it. 

Suits and shirts. 

A lot of it.

Almost exclusively.

Dress pants too.

She opens a drawer. Ties. Neatly rolled up.

Another drawer. Cuff-links. Neatly aligned on one side, tie clips off to the other side.

She tries another drawer. Underwear and socks.

_My god, where does he keep his normal clothing?_

The second to last drawer. Bingo! Simple t-shirts and henleys. Not as many as dress shirts but enough. She finds the one she’s been looking for, and pulls it out, places it to her nose, smells Dean’s detergent on it.

It’s the same shirt she wore when she was here the first time. Led Zeppelin. The letters already faded. She wonders if he’s wearing it often.

She walks back into the bathroom, hangs the towel up to dry and brushes her teeth. Everything’s still here. His toothbrush, his trimmer, his cologne. Dean must be used to traveling, maybe even has sets in his bag ready for travel so he doesn’t have to unpack a lot once he gets home.

Walking out again, she turns on the light on the bedside table before returning to the bathroom to switch off that light. She fishes out a pair of underwear she’s packed and puts her old clothes into the plastic bag before she stuffs them into her overnight bag.

When she looks at the bed again, Cuddles’ already lying in there, waiting for her.

She grins, “Hey buddy, you’re not supposed to be in here.”

The cat gives her a look that says _Duh! If you wouldn’t have wanted me in here you should have closed the door!_ But then it’s like the cat’s face softens up when she strokes his head. And now he’s looking at her as if to say _I won’t tell if you don’t_. And how can she say no to that?

Y/N cozies herself into the bed, almost gets lost in the comfy sheets. Everything smells new. Dean must have changed the sheets before he left.

Turning off the light, she turns on her side, Cuddles is already purring away next to her. 

She’s almost asleep when she hears her phone vibrate. She takes it, looks at the message. Smiles because she can’t not smile at that.

_D: Is everything okay?_

_Y/N: Why shouldn’t it be?_

_D: Is the cat giving you attitude?_

_Y/N: He has a name._

_D: Is Cuddles giving you attitude?_

_Y/N: Oh shit, I was supposed to go to your place!_

_D: Jesus Y/N! Don’t make me drive back to spank you!_

_Y/N: Relax. Everything’s fine. Although I wouldn’t say no to a spanking. But yeah, we’re fine. Both in bed and ready to sleep._

_D: I would hope that you’re both in separate beds. With him in his cat bed which is located in the fucking living room._

_Y/N: Sure._

_D: Y/N!_

_Y/N: Good night Dean_

_D: I swear, if I find out that he’s been in my bed.._

She laughs at that, puts her phone aside even if it’s still vibrating with incoming messages. She’s too tired to deal with texts.

It’s about another minute when her phone rings, and she picks up grumpily. “Hello?”

“I know you didn’t read the messages.”

“I’m tired.”

“That’s alright. Just want to say good night to you. So good night, baby.”

“Good night Dean.”

“Miss you.” He adds and there goes sleep because her heart is racing.

“Miss you too.” 

  
  
  


_____________________________

  
  
  


They’re driving to an abandoned warehouse, where the meeting with Crowley is supposed to be. They’re meeting with Crowley’s nephew. The head of Crowley’s logistics operation or so Crowley says.

The drive is a short one since they were already in town for another meeting yesterday and slept here. Sleep is maybe too good of a word. Dean has had a nightmare again, woke up in the middle of the night with sweat beading his forehead. That was when he texted her. 

It’s almost noon now and he wonders if she’s awake already.

“Dean, we’re here.” Cas says, jolting Dean back to reality. 

“Okay, you can go on, I’ll just be a minute.” He says while Inias, Ash and Cas get out of the car. Of course Dean didn’t miss Cas’ eye roll. Couldn’t have missed it if he tried.

Alone in the car, Dean thumbs over his contacts, his finger hovers above her number. He debates for a short moment, breathes in and out. He doesn’t want to wake her up but the urge to hear her voice is almost too much for him to bear.

It rings.

“‘Lo,” 

Dean exhales. The tense in his body is gone and he relaxes immediately. She sounds like she just woke up, her voice as a sexy sultry tone to it. It actually makes his cock stir in his pants and he knows he should be ashamed of it. Should be worried of the effects she has on him. Worried of the power she holds over him.

“Good morning, sweetheart. Did you sleep alright?”

“Yeah,” Dean can hear shuffling, she’s probably getting out of the bed. _His_ bed. The thought makes him feel kind of content. It should be like this, shouldn’t it? With her in his apartment, in his bed.

“Did I wake you up?”

“No, I’m up for a while. How did you sleep?”

“What is sleep?” He snorts.

“Nightmare?”

Dean sighs, “Yeah.”

“‘M sorry.”

“Don’t bother,” He brushes it off, doesn’t want to dwell on the subject of his nightmares. “What are you doing now?”

“I’m—” There’s a sound of a machine. Loud and horrible. He makes a mental note to maybe get a new one. One that isn’t so fucking loud. “—oh my god!”

Dean chuckles, “It’s loud isn’t it?”

“No, I mean yeah, it is but I just had another shock moment.”

Dean’s alarmed. “What is it? The cat?”

Y/N laughs then, “Sorry, no. It’s just I was walking around and there’s a blob of your cum coming out of me and I think I need to change underwear again.”

“Jesus, Y/N! You seriously need to stop giving me heart attacks!” Then his voice gets lower, “Fuck, thanks for that image. Now I can’t stop thinking about you walking around in my apartment with cum stained underwear. You’re now wet and dripping, too, probably. Wet enough for me to just bend you over and fuck into you.”

Alright, that was a mistake because he’s half hard just by imagining it. 

“Thanks,” She says, and adds, “Now I’m even wetter.” 

“You’re welcome.” Dean grins. 

“Why don’t you do it?” 

“Do what?” He asks, wondering how she thinks he can go there right now.

“Bend me over and fuck me from behind. You always do it from the front.”

It’s the first time Dean thinks about it and yeah, that’s true.

“I-I just always want to see your face. I can’t if I’m behind you.”

It’s the truth. He can’t stand not seeing her face. Wants to know when he’s doing something wrong because she matters.

“You have a floor length mirror in your bedroom, just saying,”

“Ooookay, I need to cut this off because I have a meeting to attend and I can’t be thinking of you on all fours wet and ready for me.”

She laughs, “Too late.”

“It is.” He agrees. “Right, I’ll be in touch and I’ll see you soon.”

“Bye, Dean.”

“Bye, baby.”

Dean hangs up, stowed his phone back into his pocket and adjusts his boner before he gets out, buttoning up his suit jacket, slips into Dean Winchester, mobster boss.

“Alright, let’s go.”

  
  


*

  
  


“Gentlemen,” Crowley says as they walk in. “Take a seat.”

There are four empty chairs around a gigantic round table. The others are all occupied.

“Sorry we’re late,” Dean says, unbuttons his jacket and sits down. He looks into the round, sees familiar faces except for one.

“Yeah, he had to call up his sweetheart.” Ash snorts and Dean gives him _that_ look. A look that says, that Ash should shut up or he’ll find himself at the end of a barrel.

Crowley grins, “Is that so? Is that why you didn’t want a girl from the club?”

Dean’s annoyed to say the least. “Can we get on with what he came here for?”

Crowley ignores Dean, turns to Ash and says, “That waitress?”

“Barmaid.” Cas corrects Crowley, a smug grin on his face but that grin is gone when he sees the look on Dean’s face.

“Ew, the one who said she had STD.” Crowley cringes his nose but then his lips form an ‘O’, “Ah, I’ve been played, I see. Barmaid one, Crowley zero.”

“Please, it’s none if your fucking business.” Dean growls, his hand comes up to scratch at his jaw, feeling visibly uncomfortable.

“Right, it’s your ‘fucking’ business,” Crowley is still grinning, air quotes the word _fucking_. “Anyway, gentlemen, this is my nephew Cain. He’s something higher up at Amtrak, is responsible for routes and schedules, I asked him to help out and here he is.”

“Cain,” Dean nods. It’s hard to tell that Cain’s Crowley’s nephew. He’s much taller, doesn’t look like his uncle at all. If it’s even his real uncle. Sometimes Crowley likes to take people under his wing, mentor them so he can use them. 

“I’ll have people cover up the wagons, make them believe it’s a freight train of the city when in fact it’s gonna be methylamine for buyers in the west and countless other illegal things that I don’t even wanna know about.” Crowley is explaining it to Cain. Looking around at Dean and his men Crowley then says, “I hope gentlemen, that after this, you’ll be voting for me again in the next mayoral election.”

Dean tries not to snort out too loud.

“How many wagons are we talking about?” Cain asks, balancing a pen on his finger. Dean has noticed that Cain’s taking notes like a good school boy. He doesn’t know what it is but there’s something about Cain that rubs him the wrong way. He wonders if Crowley has run a background check on him.

“About fifteen to twenty.” Dean says. 

“Excuse me what?” Cain asks, taken aback by the large number.

“Oh, you heard me.” Dean smirks and then he turns to Crowley, “I don’t think your nephew is ready for such a big thing.”

Castiel lowers his chin and mumbles “That’s what he said.” Which in turns makes Ash spit out the water he’s been drinking and splatters it across the table.

He’s working with a bunch of kids, Dean realizes.

“Cain, are you able to do that?” Crowley asks, his gaze on Cain and it’s as if Cain knows that if he says no, Crowley will probably do something bad to him and get someone else to do it anyway.

“I can,” Cain says, but his voice is not as convincing. “I need a couple of months, though.”

“Months?” Crowley’s outraged.

“Yeah, it’s not that easy, given the amount of freight I need to be thorough with the planning.” Cain tries to explain himself.

“Ash will help you.” Dean says.

  
  
  


*

  
  
  


After everyone walks out of the meeting room, Dean pulls Crowley aside. “Listen how real of a nephew is Cain to you?”

Crowley chuckles. “He’s actually not. It’s just someone I thought has potential.”

“Good,” Dean whispers. “I don’t trust him. Do you have a back up?”

“I always have a back up. Maybe not as good but when Ash can work on it sometime with Cain, maybe Ash can do the majority and we can get the backup in. I don’t trust Cain myself.”

“Why’s that?”

“Have you seen him making notes? Who the hell does that? It’s not like the things we talk about should be found anywhere! It fucking irks me!” Crowley hisses.

“Why did you get him on board?” Dean hisses back.

“His brother worked for me and got killed. Said I’d take care of his family and when I found out that Cain works for Amtrak, he was my fucking man alright?”

“For fuck’s sake, Crowley! Why do you think that he won’t be ratting us out? For all I know he’s gonna serve our asses to the Feds on a fucking silver platter!” Dean’s annoyed, punches the wall next to him.

“He’s being watched 24/7. I tapped his phone and his emails are going through my server. For now, get Ash to work with him, I’ll take care of it when time comes.” Crowley says and with that, he walks out of the meeting room. 

Dean feels nauseous, has to sit down for a moment. He rubs his face, leans back and closes his eyes. 

No, this can’t be happening. He’s not going to lay his future (or what’s left of it) in the hands of fucking Cain. This is his only shot, it’s all or nothing. It has to work out, only then will he be a free man. And now with Y/N, he has even more to lose. 

  
  
  


_____________________________

  
  
  


_D: I have to stay here another night, will you be okay?_

Her phone lights up as she’s loading the dishwasher. She finishes the task and writes back.

_Y/N: Don’t worry about me. Cuddles and me are having a good time._

_D: Wish I could be there._

She giggles before she types something in.

_Y/N: You’d be the third wheel._

The three dots appear, which means Dean’s typing something. And then they disappear only to reappear. The same game, again and again.

_Y/N: You okay?_

_D: Yeah._

Then a little later.

_D: No, actually I’m not. I’m having a rough day. Can I call you later? Maybe it helps when I hear your voice._

_Y/N: Sure. Do you wanna call now?_

_D: No, I’m with Cas and the others. They’re already making enough fun of me as it is. Don’t worry, I’ll call you later, sweetheart._

_Y/N: Okay._

Great. Does he think that she won’t worry? Ugh. Men, seriously.

She pockets her phone into her jeans and walks towards Dean’s office. She absolutely hates to do that. It’s like Dean completely turns her around and that’s not good, is it?

Her heart’s racing when she opens the door. The office is sparse, a big heavy desk, a big screen, a laptop. One big ass office chair and behind it some folders and a file cabinet. 

All of a sudden a sound makes her scream up. Cuddles jumped from the floor onto the desk. “My god, you scared me for a second there.”

The cat looks at her with the look that says something like _You and me both know that neither of us should be in here_.

She sighs, rolls her eyes, “This is our secret, alright? I’m not doing it because I want to.”

Y/N works fast, looks through folders, files, comes up empty handed. She picks up the cat, glances back one last time to see if everything’s as it should be and then she closes the door behind her, leans against it and breathes for the first time. She didn’t realize that she’s been holding her breath this whole time.

There’s nothing that leads to his shady things. All the folders and files are about legal investments and that is as frustrating as it is a relief.

He must have all his other things at the bunker and who knows when she’ll be able to go there next and even worse, she won’t be alone in there.

She walks back to the couch, drops herself and the cat down on it, takes out her phone and snaps a picture of them together. Her face is still a little flushed and Cuddles looks as annoyed as a cat can.

She decides to send it to Dean, to help cheer him up. 

The reply came immediately.

_D: My two favorite things._

Her cheeks start to redden again. And then another text. 

_D: I set it as my lock screen, hope you don’t mind. You look good in my shirt. Have you been going through my stuff?_

Oh, oh…

_Y/N: Just wanted to sleep in the shirt I slept in the first time I was here._

She hopes he’s buying it. Which he should because it’s the truth.

_D: It’s okay, I don’t keep secrets from you. It looks better on you anyway. You can keep it if you want._

She doesn’t know _if_ she should answer. _What_ she should answer. Decides not to because he said before that he was busy. 

Looking at the watch, she sees that she still has two hours to kill before she has to go to work. She walks to her bag, gets out her drawing book and starts to draw. It’s a passion really. She always wanted to study art but then the thing with her dad happened and she completely turned her life around. Now she only draws when there’s time. 

Opening the a new page, she picks out Cuddles to draw and when she’s about to start, Dean’s text is coming in.

_D: There’s a gym and a pool on the first floor of the building if you’re bored._

_Y/N: Tell me, do you really don’t have a camera in here? I thought you didn’t have a pool?_

_D: No cameras, just think that you might be bored. And it’s not my pool. It’s a community pool for everyone in the building._

_Y/N: I don’t have a bathing suit with me._

_D: Then don’t go to the pool. It’s kinda unsanitary to swim naked._

She snorts out a laugh.

_Y/N: That’s your only concern? That I would swim there naked?_

_D: Yeah._

_Y/N: Okay._

_D: My second concern is that people will see you naked and I don’t want that._

_Y/N: Thanks for being honest._

_D: Anytime._

_Y/N: Now stop texting me and go about your business!_

_D: You sound like Cas._

She grins and picks her pencil back up.


	21. Chapter XXI

Gabriel drives behind Y/N to work again. It feels weird and she even offered that they could drive together but he politely declined. She guesses that he probably isn’t allowed. 

Can’t help but wondering what he’s allowed to do. If Dean only assigned him to watch her the whole time or if he has other things to take care of too. But she guesses that it’s not her place to ask. 

He gets out with her, walks her to the door and for the whole night, Gabriel’s at his usual place, just watching her.

She thinks it’s weird, of course it is, wants to tell Dean to tone it down, it’s not like she can’t defend herself. Then, she remembers that Dean doesn’t know about all this. He doesn’t know about what she really does for a living. Doesn’t know she’s the same as Gabriel. Paid to watch Dean. It’s so easy to lose herself in this life. So easy to forget that her other life ever existed. 

The thought of it should scare her. Should ring alarm bells all over, but strangely, it doesn’t. And what does that say about her?

  
  


*

  
  


Finishing up is the same as last night, too. Gabriel helps her clean up, helps her more than he had to, probably he’s glad that he can make himself useful, other than staring at a woman the whole night. 

They drive to Dean’s apartment together, yet still apart in their separate cars. 

Y/N thinks Gabriel must be bored of having to babysit her. Thinks that it’s probably the most uninteresting job he could fetch. Wonders a little, if it’s a way of punishment because he did something wrong. She hopes it isn’t.

Y/N’s bedtime ritual is the same as yesterday, which consists of feeding Cuddles, shower and then bed. It’s weird being here without Dean. The apartment feels empty, she guesses it’s because it’s so freaking big. Too big. She wonders how Dean copes with that. It’s one thing to be alone in a small apartment but to be alone here makes life seem so much emptier. But then again, she doesn’t think that Dean really spends a lot of time here anyway. 

Dean calls when she settles in bed and she is not so sure if there isn’t really a secret camera somewhere that records her every move. There must be because how else would he know what she’s doing. How else would he know that she’s in bed now and not an half hour earlier already. But she brushes it off because he most likely knows when her shift ends and he knows how long it takes for her to clean up and get back here. He also knows that she usually takes a shower once she arrives home.

“Hi,” She says, trying to sound less tired today as she was yesterday.

“Hi,” He replies and she can hear a huff of air, like he’s smiling when he says it. Like he exhales after holding in a breath for too long.

“You okay?” She asks and sits up in the too big bed, her head resting against the headboard. Cuddles is not in bed tonight because she closed the door.

“Yeah,” Dean says, and adds, “Much better now.”

“Why are you still up? Nightmare?”

“I haven’t slept yet.”

“Shouldn’t you be?”

Dean sighs, “Can I tell you something?”

“Sure,”

“Is it weird that I’m scared to fall asleep? I’m terrified because I know that I’ll be up again anyway with cold sweat and racing heart. I don’t even wanna close my eyes because all I see is dirt and dust, and all I hear is gunfire and screams.”

“Oh, Dean… I’m sorry. No… no, it’s not weird. It’s perfectly normal.” She pauses before she adds, “Have you tried sleeping pills?”

“I can’t. It’ll knock me out and I need to be reachable at all times.”

“This conversation is getting sad.” She mumbles.

Dean chuckles, “‘M sorry, I really didn’t want to make you sad. Just wanted to hear your voice.”

“Does it make you feel better?”

“‘M already much better now.” 

“When will you be back?”

“Hopefully by tomorrow evening.”

“Okay.” She says, and it might have come out a little disappointing but she was really hoping that she’d see him before she has to go to work. And now she feels selfish.

“What is it?”

How does he know?

“Just miss you, is all.” She says because it’s the truth.

“Miss you, too.” He breathes out and she can hear that he tries to smile even if she can’t see him. She’s wondering now why they never video call but then again, she’s not a great sight to look at sometimes. Plus, seeing him might make her miss him even more.

“Alright, you should go catch some sleep.”

“Good night, Dean.”

“I’ll see you tomorrow, sweetheart.”

  
  
  


*

  
  
  


Y/N says goodbye to Cuddles when she leaves for work the next day. The cat’s been extra clingy which makes her think that he must know. Must know that their little adventure will be in their past. Dean’s coming home tonight so there’s no need for her to stay. Not like she has packed enough clothes anyway. 

Ellen called to say that she has to start earlier and that’s fine with her. It means that she can go home almost three hours earlier than usual. She’ll have more time to sleep for once. 

Halfway through her shift, Dean sent a message and she only saw it because she needed a hair tie from her bag. 

_D: Would it be too much to ask if you’d stay another night?_

She bites down on her bottom lip while reading the message then types back, hopes for enough signal to send it out.

_Y/N: Won’t you be home?_

She waits for the reply that took forever to come. It came after an hour and she doesn’t know if it’s Dean who’s busy or the signal at the Roadhouse.

_D: I am but I don’t know how long it’ll take. Need to help sort things out in this facility._

_Y/N: Okay will go home first because I need new clothes._

_D: You don’t need clothes._

She can literally imagine him grinning because he thinks he’s so funny.

_Y/N: Stop it. I have to work now._

_D: Come on! I’m hilarious!_

She rolls her eyes and slips her phone back into her bag before she proceeds to take the next order. She can see Gabriel in the periphery of her eyes, sees him reading a text and then he nods. That’s probably Dean texting him what happens after work tonight.

  
  
  


_____________________________

  
  
  


“Dean,” Cas comes running towards him when Dena is helping a lab tech with the heavy cylinder. “Can I talk to you for a minute.”

“Sure.” Dean says but he didn’t really want to interrupt the work honestly because he wants to get back home as soon as possible.

Cas makes Dean follow him and walks around the corner. They’re out of anyone’s earshot. 

“Jo escaped.” Cas whispers.

“She what?” It came out way too loud.

“Adam was supposed to be watching but he’s not there anymore, neither is Jo.”

“Fuck, Y/N!” Dean hurries along the corridor of this big lab, “Cas I’m taking the car.”

Dean actually doesn’t wait for Cas to say something. Knows that they only took one car to come here but Cas’ a big boy, he’ll find a fucking way back.

He tries calling her but she wouldn’t pick up. He has approximately four hours to reach her. It also takes four hours for her to finish her shift.

Gabe doesn’t pick up his phone either. Dean knows that the signal at the Roadhouse is questionable at best, but why does it have to be now? He debates calling the landline but what if Ellen picks up? She doesn’t even know that her daughter is a fucking traitor.

  
  
  


_____________________________

  
  
  
  


“You don’t really have to come up, you know?” Y/N tells Gabriel as he walks with her to the entrance of her building.

“I’m just really following orders.”

“So, what? If he tells you to jump you would?” She says in a playful tone.

“Yeah.” 

Wow.

“How long have you known Dean?” She can’t help but ask.

“Since Afghanistan.” 

She stops in her tracks. “You two were stationed together?”

“Yeah. He saved my life.”

“And then you come back and work for him? Even though he’s doing illegal things?”

“He’s a good man. He was just born into the wrong family. His intentions are good and he wants to get out, leave it all behind. That’s why I stay and help him.”

“Get out? Out of where?”

“Did he not tell you?”

_Uh oh…_

“No.”

“Shit,” Gabriel curses. “Don’t tell him I told you. You should ask him. I just shut up from now on.”

They walk together side by side in silence. There’s so many things going on in her head. Too many things that she still wants to know, wants to ask Gabriel but she knows for certain that he won’t talk again. 

They walk up the stairs and she stops mid climb. 

“What is it?” Gabriel asks because he bumps into her.

Her heart races. “The door is open.”

“Did you leave it open?”

“Duh, would I leave it open that wide?”

Gabriel peeks from behind her, then hastily steps in front of her, drawing a gun from his holster. “Behind me.” He whispers and they climb the two remaining steps in silence.

He goes in, gun drawn, securing each room before he tells her to come in. 

The apartment is a mess, drawers have been pulled out, every furniture turned over. 

The silence is almost unbearable as they walk through her trashed apartment. She’s in shock, broken glass crushes under their feet. 

_No, no, no. This can’t be happening._

Just when she’s about to get into her room to see if her safe is still there, she hears footsteps.

“Y/N!” 

That’s Dean’s voice.

How did he get here?

He runs in, gun drawn, his shirt’s loose around his belt, not tucked in nearly as she’s used to. The tie long gone, sleeves folded up his forearm.

“Oh, thank god!” Dean breathes out when he sees her, runs forward and pulls her to his chest.

They stand there in silence for a second, she can feel Dean’s heartbeat. It’s ridiculously fast.

It’s then that they hear footsteps coming up the stairs. It could be her neighbors but it also could not, so they stay still.

“Oh, hello boys and one stupid girl,” Jo chirps. She has a gun too, which she points in their direction. Jo calls back to someone who’s coming up the stairs. “Told you after we get some food they’d all be here!”

Adam shows up a second later, of course he has a gun too. 

Y/N’s the only one who doesn’t have a gun and she feels awfully left out. But running into her room to retrieve the gun out of her safe seems like a bad move right now.

“What do you want, Jo?” Dean growls, and he moves to stand before Y/N. 

“You know what I want, Dean.” Jo snarls. “Protect yourself, let me bring her to Lucifer.”

“And you, Adam, really?” Dean asks as he ignores Jo’s demand. He heard her fine, he’s just not gonna turn Y/N over.

Adam just shrugs. “You never trusted me, Dean. Never thought I was good enough to be in your inner circle. Didn’t even fucking know the bunker existed until Inias appointed me to watch Jo while you were away.”

“You’re the other rat. I should have known. Why do you think I never trusted you?”

Jo laughs, “You two done?” 

Y/N can see Dean exchanging looks with Gabriel. It’s like they have a silent understanding. She knows about things like this. They probably did it a lot while they served together in Afghanistan. It’s a way for them to signal to the other they're going in for the kill. It’s clear to them who is going to take out who, even though Jo and Adam have no idea about it. They are most likely not coming from a military background.

“I go.” Y/N says, as a way of distraction, to give Dean and Gabriel time to think about their next move.

Y/N steps forward even though Dean makes himself a little broader, not wanting to let her in front but she knows she’s not the target. Jo would have more to lose when she kills Y/N. Obviously, for whatever reason, Lucifer wants her alive. 

“Not on my watch.” Dean says, and there’s the sound of gunfire, he aims for Jo’s right shoulder. The impact sends the blonde woman flying back and her gun slips out of her grip. There’s a sound that Jo lets out that hurts Y/N’s ears.

As soon as Jo was catapulted back, Gabriel went in for the kill, shooting Adam square in the face before Adam could even pull the trigger.

Dean steps over to Jo who was writhing on the floor.

He squats down, looking the woman in the eye. Jo’s trying to say something, her lips are moving but no sound comes out.

“You know, you were right about one thing. The thing we talked about when I saw you last. I give you credit for that. I can accept that it’s who I am and I’m willing to go all in for what I love. But do you also remember what I said to you? If you pull that shit again, I will have no problem putting a bullet through your fucking head, Jo.”

Dean gets up again and turns to Y/N.

“Can do you something for me, sweetheart?” 

“What do you want me to do?” She asks, her eyes are still fixed on Jo. She doesn’t know what she should feel about the woman on the floor. Is confused as fuck. Hates that it has to happen and thinks it’s all her fault.

Dean sees her state of distress, and walks over, lowers himself down a little, and pushes his finger under her chin, tilts her head up like he always does when he wants her to look at him. “Hey, hey, look at me, okay? You’re okay. I got you.”

She nods, didn’t even know that she’s crying until a tear runs down her cheek. 

“I want you to know that I’m gonna do something which is not pretty, alright? That’s not really me. You’re now basically the only one who knows who I really am. I’m just trying to do the right thing here, and right now, the right thing is protecting you, alright?”

She nods again. There are no words coming out even if she would try. She wants to tell him though, wants to tell him that it’s not because he’ll kill Jo, not because she’s never seen someone die in front of her eyes before. It’s because he’s doing everything to protect her. Her of all people! And she doesn’t deserve it. Not when she’s betraying him in the worst fucking way possible.

Gabriel is talking on the phone in the back. He has taken Jo’s gun away so Jo wouldn’t be able to try something funny.

Dean kisses her, and she kisses him back with tears running down her face. Pours all the things she wants to say but can’t into the kiss, _I’m sorry I’m sorry I should have never made you fall in love with me_.

He parts then, kisses her forehead. “Close your ears and your eyes, baby.” He whispers, and walks back to Jo.

She nods and closes her eyes and ears, even turns around because Dean wants her to. 

The shot is still loud. It makes her whole body jump and then she drops to the floor, cries some more. 

  
  
  


_____________________________

  
  
  
  


Dean picks her up from the floor and carries her into her bedroom. Sits on her bed, drops her into his lap and let’s her cry into the crook of his neck.

“I’m sorry,” He says, stroking her head. 

“No, you have nothing to be sorry about.” She mumbles, he can feel that his neck is wet and her tears run down his collar. 

“I made you cry.” 

“You didn’t. I was just overwhelmed.”

“And there I thought I would come home and make you scream but here we are.” He tries to lighten up the situation.

She chuckles a little but it sounds weird because her nose is blocked and it came out more like a grunt.

Outside, someone is talking loudly. It sounds like her neighbor from upstairs and then another voice. Softer. That’s Gabriel.

“What’s Gabriel telling my neighbor?”

Dean brushes a strand of hair behind her ear. “Something about not tampering the crime scene and that they should let the police do their job. Knowing him, he likes to flash his badge, too.”

“A police badge?”

“Yeah.”

“A fake one.” 

It must be. 

“It was his, alright. He used to be a real policeman.”

She doesn’t understand. The crease between her eyebrows grows but Dean is getting restless.

“Come on, pack all the things you need for—” He stops to think, “— for forever maybe. We can come back when it’s cleaned up if you should need more things.”

“Where should I go?” She asks and he looks at her dumbfounded.

“Duh,”

He can see the moment the wires in her head start to connect again. 

“No.”

“Yes.” He grins.

“I can’t.”

“Why not?”

“Because I can’t move into someone’s home after I’ve known him for what? Two weeks?”

“Almost three.” Dean adds, like it matters.

“Dean!”

“You can’t stay here and if you don’t wanna live at mine then let me set you up in an apartment I own.”

“I can’t let you do that.”

He’s getting tired of her doubts. “Jesus, are we really arguing about this?”

“I mean, yeah, I’d move in but do _you_ really want it? Want someone living with you? I’ll be the first one you see when you come home? I’ll be around always since I’ll probably be out of a job?”

He chuckles and brushes the tears away from her face to kiss her. “Baby, that doesn’t make me want to live with you any less. If anything it’s the contrary. Makes me want it even more.”

“You will want your space though, and I’m invading it.”

“I don’t need personal space.”

She looks downwards, her fingers play with the buttons of his shirt. “I’ll get on your nerves.”

“I’m used to the heart attacks you’re giving me since I met you.”

“I’ll annoy you.”

“I’ll annoy you back.”

She sighs. “I love Cuddles, though.”

“He loves you back.”

“You sure?”

“Never been more sure of anything in my life.” He kisses her wet nose. “Come on, you pack and I help Gabe outside. We can discuss this thing about me being absolutely fucking sure for you to move in when we’re home later.”


	22. Chapter XXII

Dean drops her off at his apartment, carries all her bags up with her and helps her by cleaning out half of his closet space so she can put her things in there.

It baffles her that he’s willing to do it all so easily, as if there’s really nothing else he’d rather do. He unselfishly bends and twists his life around to be able to fit her into it.

She does not deserve this. 

“I’ll meet with the others to talk about what happened. Will you be okay?”

“Yeah.” She says because she will.

“Take your time. I’ll be back before you know it.” He says, and steals a kiss before he leaves. A kiss that lingers a fraction too long but at the same time not long enough.

  
  


*

  
  


It didn’t take her long to stow away her belongings. All the contents in her safe stayed at her apartment. She’ll tell Linda to send someone to pick it up once things are settled. It’s not like she needs it anyway, haven’t even looked at the files for days. She didn’t need to, because she got to know more of Dean than all the files packed with his information can ever reveal about him. 

Oh god, she’s got to tell Linda what happened. Got to tell her the truth with Dean and she’s scared of that, if she’s honest.

She showered and is in bed when Dean’s back. He undresses and picks out a fresh pair of underwear from his closet, slips into the shower wordlessly. And she’s thankful for that, thankful that he knows when to talk and when not to.

He comes out with his hair and body still damp, smells of fresh mint and body wash. Picks her up and pulls her into him. She lays her head on his chest, drapes an arm over his body, hooks her leg over his thigh.

“How are you feeling?” He whispers and she can hear the rumble in his chest, next to his heartbeat.

“Tired,” She says, and it’s true. Exhausted even. 

“I’ll talk to Ellen tomorrow.” He whispers, as if he’s reading her mind again. 

Because she thinks that she’s out of job which maybe might mean that Linda will order her to go back to where she was before. Make her abort the whole operation, since it might be enough to have Meg still working at Crowley’s club. “Do you want me to come with you?”

He breathes out, “No, I’ll probably won’t even tell her the truth. Don’t want you there when I’m lying.”

“You wanna lie about the death of her daughter?”

He kisses her forehead, lets his lips linger there. “Sometimes, it’s better to not tell people the truth because it’ll hurt them far too much. I know it’s selfish and another level of cowardice but I’m protecting myself and most of all, I’m protecting you.”

She doesn’t say anything to that. Feels her own guilt choking her, it’s gets harder to breathe.

“Can I ask you something?” She says instead.

“Anything.”

“Don’t be mad at Gabriel, please.” She starts and Dean’s already letting out a groan. 

“What did he tell you?”

“Well,” she paints figure eights on his chest with her finger. “He said that you’re looking for a way to get out of this life, is it true?”

“No,” He says, and adds, “I’m not _looking_ for a way. I have found a way, it just needs to go as planned so I can set everyone up with enough money to last because if I’m out, I want all of my people to get out too. What we’re doing? That’s no way to live.”

“Set everyone up with money?”

“Yeah, enough for them to last a lifetime and longer probably.”

“And you? What about you?” She tilts her head to look up at him. 

“I still have my properties,” He shrugs, “Looking to get something smaller anyway, something simpler, somewhere remote.”

“Dean Winchester wants a simple quiet life?”

He chuckles at that, “Yeah, it’s more my thing.” Then he adds, “And you? What do you want?”

“I haven’t thought about it yet.” She says, feels that weird thing in her throat that makes it harder for her to breathe. Guilt — it must be guilt.

“Can you imagine a simple, quiet life? Alone somewhere, no neighbors to bother you? Walk around the house naked all the time? Get up when you want, eat when you want… Just do things because you want to and not because someone expects it of you?”

“That’s a great life.” She wholeheartedly agrees.

“Would you think I’m a creep when I say that when I picture that life, that you’re in it?”

She can feel his heart beating faster after he asks the question.

“Would you _really_ want me in it?”

He chuckles, kisses the top of her head. “Baby, you’re the reason I even dare to think about a life like that. The reason why I’m doing what I’m doing and making extra sure that everything will work out.”  
  


***

  
  


“Did someone follow you?” Linda asks as she sits down on the bench in the dog park.

“Not that I know of,”

“Why the emergency meeting? Couldn’t you have used your phone?” 

She sighs and fidgets with her fingers while she looks down. “You remember the snitch I told you about? The double agent?”

“Yeah?”

“It was Jo. Well, and another guy named Adam but yeah, they’re both dead now.” She starts and Linda listens.

Y/N begins to tell Linda about her and Dean, leaves out some details of course because Linda doesn’t need to know every little thing but the big picture, that one she tells Linda.

“You know that you have to come back.” Linda says, her voice stern.

“What if I don’t want to?”

“It’s either our side or his, Y/N, there’s no in between. Make a wise choice, Y/N. Don’t you think you owe us and your father that much?”

“You can’t possibly use my father against me, Linda!” Y/N hisses but she also knows that Linda’s right.

Linda breathes in and exhales audibly. “Okay, listen, I love you like a daughter, and you know that. You were always the daughter I never could have and your happiness is important to me. It pains me to see that you’re not happy so the only thing I can give you is this…”

  
  
  


*

  
  


Y/N goes home with the deal. It’s something she can accept, and it kind of lifts the cloud that was hanging over her heart. At least she’s still got to have it until then. Got to have time with Dean, and she’s going to make the best of it.

She’s drawing a portrait on the sofa when Dean comes back. 

“Honey, I’m home.” He calls out as soon as he steps in, probably means it as a joke. It does sound quite good in her ear, though.

He braces his elbow on the sofa and leans over the edge, kisses her temple and looks at her drawing. “Is that me?” 

Her cheeks are warm all of a sudden, kind of afraid of what he thinks of it. Wondering if he thinks she’s creepy by drawing him. 

“Uh-huh,”

Dean tilts his head, looks at her and with the light, his freckles are visible. She loves them. His eyes too, they are so green. And then he smiles, creases deepening around his eyes. “You’re drawing me?” 

“I also draw Cuddles, you’re nothing special, calm down.” She says, a playful tone in her voice. 

“No,” He looks at the portrait again. “I love it.” 

Dean walks around the sofa, comes to sit down next to her. He plays with the hem of her shirt while he watches her draw. 

After a while, she has to giggle. “You’re distracting me.” 

“That’s the plan.” He smirks, and as soon as she drops the pencil, he pulls her towards him by her shirt, there’s a sound of fabric ripping. 

“Dean!”

“I'll buy you a new shirt.” He just says it like it’s no big deal and manhandles her onto his lap. 

It’s like the first time she was here, the time when he got her off by letting her grind on him. She thinks back to the times they’ve been intimate, thinks that it has always been about her. It was never about him. And somehow, she wants to be able to satisfy him too.

She cups his face between her palms, their noses touch, his scruff scratching away underneath the palms of her hands. “Hi,”

“Hi,” He whispers back, and cranes his neck, sucks in her bottom lip before he lets go, only to dive in again.

His hands are firm on her ass, guiding her movement as their kisses grow heavier and hungrier.

Y/N breaks the kiss, leans back a little to see him better. She lets her thumbs trail along his face, his eyebrow, touches the creases around his eyes. “How did it go with Ellen?” 

He sighs, and closes his eyes for a brief moment before he looks at her again, his hand comes up to tuck a strand of hair behind her ear, this finger traces along her neck, over her shoulder. “I’ll tell you later. I don’t wanna talk about it now. The important thing is that you’re okay. Are you okay?”

“I am.” She says, smiling a little to reassure him and he smiles back, pulls her into him by the nape of her neck, kisses her sweet, soft and deep.

She can’t help but grind into him, rolls her hips and searches for that friction and she’s shamelessly wet.

“Christ,” Dean breathes out, “You turn me on so much, you know that, right?” He pulls her in, kisses her throat, licks a line up to the shell of her ear. 

There’s a smile on her face, it’s cocky and she leans in, kisses his throat, her hands sneaking into his suit jacket, pulls them off and he sits up a little, helping her to get it off.

She slowly unbuttons his shirt, one by one, and kisses the skin he reveals with each button that is missing. 

Y/N kisses his scars, his freckles. Her tongue toys with his nipple to which Dean groans out. She smiles, sucks it in some more and he almost has to pull her away because he’s too sensitive, his fingers already tugging at her hair. 

Climbing down his body, she kisses a trail, likes the crease his stomach makes when he’s sitting. Loves the trail of hair past his navel. Dean spreads his legs wider, so she can kneel on the floor in between. She looks up at him, her hands working on his belt buckle.

Dean has his lip between his teeth one of his hands on hers to stop her, “Baby, you don’t have to.” He says, his voice soft and low. 

She looks at him, a smile tugging away at her lips. “I know that I don’t have to, I want to.” 

He breathes out, maybe to calm himself down but he lets his hands fall down to his sides. His gaze still lingers on her. 

Y/N’s hands are a little shaky as she loses his belt, needs more than four tries to open up the button and the hook on his dress pants before she can bring down his zipper. 

His hands stroke the side of her face while she works on it, his patience obviously knows no bounds while she almost dies of anticipation.

Finally, she hooks her hands in his underwear, brings it down together with his pants and Dean helps her, lifts his ass a little so she can pull it down. She pulls at them, takes them off his legs one by one before she throws it behind her. She takes off his socks next and stands up, taking off her own socks, her jeans and top, but leaves her bra and panties on before sitting back down.

She swallows hard and Dean’s doing the same. Her hands are resting on his knees and she strokes his thighs. Her eyes are fixed on his at first but then she let it travel down his body, until they’re set on his cock. 

Taking her hand, she places it on his shaft, tugs his cock lightly towards her. It feels warm, is hard and heavy in her grip, and Dean bites down on his lips so hard she thinks he might draw blood if she doesn’t stop soon.

Y/N cups his balls with one hand, let them roll around in her palm while she places a kiss on the tip of his dick, chaste, soft. 

“Baby,” Dean’s voice sounds broken. She doesn’t know if that’s a warning.

She smiles, sticks her tongue out and lets it circle around the head that is leaking by now. She holds his shaft firm in her hand and smacks the head of it against her awaiting tongue a couple of times, making him close his eyes and groan. She doesn’t know if it’s a frustrating groan but his face makes her chuckle. 

“You’re killing me,” He drawls, his voice is dark, deep. 

Accumulating enough spit in her mouth, she lets her saliva drip onto the slit at the tip and proceeds to massage the slick down onto his shaft. She’s smiling when he moans, and then she opens her mouth to suck it in, taking him in further with every movement of her head. 

“Jesus,” He bites his lips harder, his hand brushing at the hair that falls around her face. 

She goes as far as she can — which is not really far since she hasn’t done this a lot and her gag reflex is very much existent — and strokes the part of him that she can’t fit into her mouth.

When she pops his dick out of her mouth to take a breath, she says, “Tell me how you like it.”

He rolls his eyes and his hand balls to fist next to his thighs. “Fucking Christ, sweetheart, any way you want it is fine for me. I’m already having a hard time trying not to lose myself at the moment. I like it very much the way it is.”

“Am I doing good?” She asks, and it might be a weird question but it’s just… she doesn’t know if it’s good? She sucked dick before, yes but also it wasn’t that many times and she never enjoyed it like he enjoys it now — enjoys _him_.

“You’re perfect.” He says, stroking her cheeks with one hand. 

She smiles at that, takes him into her mouth again, sucks him deep and wet, makes it extra slick because she once read in a magazine that guys like that. 

“Look at me,” He chokes out, brushing at her hair, holds it back behind her head with both of his hands, watching her, and she does, her eyes looking straight at him as best as she can. 

“That’s it. Just like that.” Dean whispers, and she can’t lie that it turns her on when he talks like that. She never knew that she had a praise kink but apparently, she does. Loves it so much that she’s soaking wet just by hearing him say things like that.

“You’re looking so good with my cock in your mouth, baby.” He’s breathing hard by now, and then he adds, “Would you think it'd be creepy if I took a picture?”

She pulls his dick out of her mouth with a lewd pop, almost chokes because she has to laugh at his words. “I swear I’m never gonna talk to you again if you do.”

“Yeah, I don’t want th—” He couldn’t finish his sentence because she sucks and swallows him down. “Fucking Chri—” He exhales and inhales, wheezing a little. “Baby, I’m so fucking close.” 

Y/N pops his cock out, starts to stroke him, twists her wet hand around the head of his dick. She looks at him, a playful smile on her face. “I want you to come in my mouth.” Not waiting for a reaction, she takes him in her mouth again, bobbing her head and watches him lose himself. 

“Jesus Christ Y/N!” Dean groans, his hips twitches as her mouth fills with his warm cum. 

Before he even collects himself, he grips at her arms with both his hands, pulls her up and manhandles her into his lap, kissing her roughly, not even caring that her mouth tastes like himself. 

He parts then, his chest heaving. “God dammit, you can’t say shit like that and expect me to still be able to have control over myself.” He growls, pecks her nose and her cheeks. “You alright? How are you feeling?” 

“Good,” She says and then again with a smile, “Great.”

Dean grins at that. “Good, I have an idea.” 

He pushes her off his lap, makes her yelp up and fall down onto the sofa with a laugh. He’s halfway over to his bedroom when he turns around, soft dick hanging between his legs and she doesn’t know why but she thinks he looks funny, next to still looking ridiculously good and that is indeed not fucking fair. “Get rid of your bra and panties. I’ll be back.”

She raises an eyebrow at that, but proceeds to take them off, bunches them up and throws them onto the pile of clothes already lying on the floor.

He comes back only a minute later, with two towels in hand and a smile so bright she could confuse him with the Joker. 

“Dean, no!” She has a strong feeling she knows what he’s about to do.

He chuckles, as he comes to the couch, “Dean, yes! Now get your super cute ass off the couch so I can spread the towels on it.”

She rolls her eyes but stands up because if she won’t, he’ll make her, she knows that.

“Hop back on.” He says when he’s finished.

And she looks at him. “How do you want me?”

“God dammit, baby, don’t say things like that, it triggers all the right buttons.” He spanks her ass, pushes her onto the sofa. “Lie down, on your back.”

“Like this?” Her head is short below the armrest of the sofa.

Dean climbs over her, bends down to kiss her, “Just like that,” His one hand rubs at her clit, “Jesus, you’re soaked.”

He works his way down her throat, sucks and nibbles along her skin until he reaches her nipple. He teeths at them, making her arch her back. 

His fingers are teasing around the rim of her hole. “What do you want?” He says, tickles her nipple with the tip of his tongue. “Tell me,”

“Your fingers,” She’s clearly out of breath, chest moving up and down, heart racing so fucking fast. 

Dean sits up on his heels, his fingers painting along her lips and spreading them, “You’ll get them. But I need to do this first.” He doesn’t wait for her to ask what he’s talking about, instead he’s lying down on his stomach, his shoulders wedged between her thighs, and lick and sucks at her, hums with pleasure like she’s the best fucking thing he’s ever eaten. 

His hands strokes up her body while he’s nibbling at her clit, fingers twisting her nipples and kneading her tits. She’s almost ashamed that she’s close already, he barely touched her but she’s falling apart. She comes hard, her legs pushing together, trapping his head between her thighs, making him tap his hands at her bottom to release him.

“Sorry,” She says, her cheeks red. “It just happened.”

“Thought I’d die down there for a minute,” He looks up, one hand stroking her thighs up and down before he rubs at her clit, slapping lightly down on it, making her yelp up but it’s more pleasure than pain. “Would have been a great death, though.” 

He climbs up her body, places little kisses on her stomach, up to her chin, seals his lips around hers, pushes his tongue into her mouth. She tastes herself on him. 

Dean breaks the kiss, whispers to her while he looks her in the eye, “Tell me again what you want,”

She can feel his dick on her thighs, it’s hard again. From just eating her out! It fills her chest with some kind of weird pride. She kisses him as one of his hand wedges between them, the pad of his fingers toying at the rim of her cunt. She whispers, his bottom lip between her teeth, “I want your fi—” He pushes into her in that moment, making her choke on her own words. “F—”

He chuckles against her lips and sits back up, works his fingers in and out of her and presses the heel of his hands against her clit. “Fuck, you’re so wet, can you hear that?” He curves his fingers, places the hand that’s not in her onto her stomach, right above where his fingers dig into her wall from the inside. 

It makes a sloshing sound down there and she’s embarrassed at how wet she can get. 

“Can I go harder?” He asks and waits for her reply. 

“Uh-huh,” 

She can’t push out a coherent word if she tries.

He goes in harder, breathing heavily while he does it. She can see his biceps flexing, veins standing out.

“Oh my god,” She breathes out and clasps a hand over her mouth. 

Dean’s quick to take the hand and pushes it out of her face. “Don’t even think about covering your mouth again, we’re alone, you can be as loud as you want. I want you to, okay?”

Y/N nods.

The pressure builds and builds and she’s a blink away from coming. Dean’s free hand roams her body, kneading her flesh. They go up past her chest, until he holds her down by her throat. “You ever been choked, baby?” 

“Nu-huh,”

“Nu-huh? Can I try? A little? I think you’ll like it.”

“Uh-huh,” Honestly, it’s embarrassing that she can’t even form real words. But also he could ask anything right about now and the answer would be _yes_.

“God, so perfect,” He says while he claws a hand around her throat, pressing on it lightly. The pressure grows harder the harder he fucks her with his fingers. “Tap out if you want me to stop, alright?” 

She nods, and grabs at the wrist of the hand that’s around her throat. Her whole body jerks and shakes and there’s the feeling that she has to pee again. “Fffffff!”

There it was, the feeling of taking a free fall, she’s gone, sees white and her body goes limp. The pressure on her throat’s gone and Dean nuzzles his nose against her cheek, “You’re fucking amazing,” He whispers, kissing her while he still rubs her lazily down there. 

“Oh my god, I think I passed out.” She says when she’s back to her senses.

The towel below her ass is drenched in her wetness.

Dean pushes in three of his fingers, making her yelp up. They go in easily, she’s plenty wet down there. He chuckles a little, kisses her before he whispers, “Come on, another one, baby, can you do that?”

He starts to move his fingers and she can’t even say no because the sensation picks up right where she left off. It’s like she’s close on that top of the mountain again, by him just pushing his fingers into her. This is not fair at all. Not fair, that he can make her come so many times when she can only make him come once. But she can’t dwell on it because she’s so fucking close.

“Choke me,” She whispers, her mouth has run dry, the voice came out a little scratchy.

“What was that?” Dean asks, didn’t hear it because of the splashy sound that her pussy makes with his fingers inside.

“Choke me again.” 

Dean grins at that, works his hands up her body, slaps onto her nipples in passing, making her arch her back and push her pussy against his fingers. He claws at her throat, presses down just enough to make her lose her mind. “My god, look at you,” His own voice is deep and soft. 

He works his hand harder, scratching at that button on the inside, rubbing against the wall and she’s gone. Her legs cramp up, she’s literally shaking as she comes again.

But as soon as she comes down and Dean has pulled his fingers out of her, there’s the empty feeling again. 

“Dean,” She says breathlessly. 

“What is it?” He asks, kisses her sloppily and deep. 

“I need,” The words come choking out of her in a sob. “I want,” 

“Tell me, baby,” 

She cradles his face, feels the pricking of his scruff against the palm of her hand, “I want you to fuck me,”

He lets out a huff of hot air, breathes in and kisses her while exhaling. “How do you want me,”

“Wanna ride you,” She says, and Dean complies, sits down and pulls her with him, making her straddle his lap. 

Y/N lines his cock at her entrance, sits down a little more. 

His hands are on her waist, helping her to sit down on his cock. “Breath, baby, don’t forget to breathe,” He says when he sees that she’s been tense. 

She nods at him, and together they work him in, inch by glorious inch, until she’s able to take all of him.

Dean’s breathing hard, inhales and exhales loudly. 

“You okay?” She asks, as she sits there motionless.

He breathes out again before he speaks, “Yeah. You just feel so fucking good.” 

She smiles at that, “Do you want me to wait or—”

“—Christ’s sake, fucking move, baby, I’m dying here!”

Y/N giggles at that and starts to bounce on his cock. 

Dean’s hands are on her ass, spanking and kneading at them. It kind of urges her to go a little faster. At one point, he throws his head back and squints his eyes close. 

“What is it?” She’s almost out of breath. 

“You feel so good, I’m already close.” He mumbles, picks his head up from the sofa and looks up at her. “Do you have another one in you? Can you come with me?”

“I don’t know,” She shakes her head, fact is, she doesn’t think that she can come a fourth time. 

“Let’s try it,” He says and fucking winks. He clearly sees it as a challenge. 

Both of his hands go around her throat, his hips fucking up to meet her mid motion. His hands aren’t pressing as hard as before but she still feels like the air doesn’t reach her lungs and before long, she feels a tingling sensation on the base of her spine as her toes start to curl.

“Dean, I—”

“I got you, baby,” He says, “Keep on riding, don’t stop, just don’t stop.”

“Fuuuuuu—,” She’s close to sobbing, she’s gonna come, it almost physically hurts. 

“Just like that. You’re doing good, baby, so good. Such a good girl,”

“Ohgodohgodohgod,” She sobs out.

“Don’t stop, keep on going, keep on riding, you can do it, baby.” He encourages her and it works, the praise goes where it’s needed to help push her over the edge.

And then there it is, she’s coming with a throaty moan, her whole body relaxes and goes limp, held together by Dean’s hands around her throat. 

“I got you,” He whispers, as he too, comes undone, shoots his load into her while he pulls her close and sinks his teeth into her shoulder. 

They stay like that for a while, chest to chest, his arms around her, her hands lazily stroking the base of his neck. Their breathing is hard, their hearts beating fast. 

“Wow,” She says and buries her face into the crook of his neck. They’re both sticky and sweaty but she enjoys it. Enjoys the smell of sweat and sex on him. She breathes in a little more.

“You’re wearing me out.” He whispers, making her chuckle lightly upon hearing it.

  
  


_____________________________

  
  
  


“How are you feeling? Everything okay?” He asks, his fingers lazily stroking her back, feels every bump of her spine. 

“Yeah,” Y/N answers, and then sits up a little. “Thank you.”

“For what?”

“Making me come four times.”

He laughs at that and pulls her in for a kiss. 

“Hold on,” He says and stands up, his hands supporting her around her waist and one hand on her ass. 

“Where are we doing?” 

“I was thinking about something involving you and me, a bathtub and a back rub.” He’s in the bathroom now, is kind of trying to turn on the faucet with her in his arm, shouts out _yahtzee_ when he succeeds and she’s laughing the prettiest of laughs he’s ever heard.

  
  


*

She’s sitting on the other end of the tub, holding out her foot and he massages her there, tickling her in between. 

“How do you feel about going to a fundraiser?” He asks.

“I feel like I won’t like it.” 

“What if I buy you a dress?” 

She raises one eyebrow, “Do I have to?”

“Well, they actually know now that I have a girl and I have to bring someone?”

“You could go with someone who looks like me.” 

Dean snorts out a laugh before he pulls her towards him, so that she’s sitting between his thighs. He hugs her from behind, drops his head on her shoulder. “Please?”

“Well, if you say please.” She tilts her head, kisses his temple. “When is it?”

“I think about a month's time, Crowley says he’s gonna send an invitation.” 

“No, Crowley? Really?”

“Shush, he knows. He says that he thinks you were great with rejecting him.”

“You owe me.”

“Anything you want.”

  
  


*

  
  


When the water turns cold she turns around in his grip. “Do you have to be anywhere today?”

“No, I’m all yours.” He answers, and it’s true. He canceled every meeting just to be with her, knowing that she doesn’t have anywhere to go. 

“Then, I think I know what we could do,” She’s grinning at him with that cocky smile. 

Dean sighs, “Oh god, I hope it doesn’t involve sex. I’m too old and need more recuperation time.”

She laughs and kisses his nose, “Don’t worry old man, I was thinking that we could go eat out at Bobby’s?”

“How did I deserve you again?” He grins, and kisses her. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading to this chapter. We’re at 22 already! I hope you like it so far. Thank you all for your lovely comments, they seriously make the sweat and tears I’m going through while writing worth it. There’s still over 10 chapters left, I hope you stay! xx


	23. Chapter XXIII

Y/N has lived with him for almost a month now and ever since, he has made sure to come home every night. Suddenly, being home sounds more appealing than it ever did. 

Ellen is still grieving, closing the Roadhouse down for good until she’s ready. Which is understandable. The funeral was a small ceremony, with just her closest friend. Dean didn’t attend, even if he was invited too, he just didn’t feel like he had the right to.

Lucifer is a thing from the past by now. Turns out the Feds found the place where he keeps most of the girls and instead of giving himself up to his fate, Lucifer had rather put a bullet through his own skull. So that least that’s a thing less to worry about and Dean doesn’t need to lock Y/N up in a golden cage. Not that she wanted to be locked up anyway, she always found a way to sneak out while Lucifer was still alive, which gave him a couple of heart palpitations.

Dean put Y/N in charge of one of his bars. Had almost had to force her to do it because she refuses to accept help (in any form) from him. It’s always been like that and honestly, even if it’s great and all but he’s getting tired of it. Had to promise her that it’s just for her to have something to do until she can decide what she wants to do next and not because he wants to be the possessive boyfriend who wants to keep tabs on her. He thinks it has a lot to do with the stalker boyfriend she had before, because she absolutely hates to know that someone could watch her every move. 

On a rainy day a couple of days ago, they were lounging on the sofa when she asked him out of the blue, if it would be weird to sign up for art classes at the community college. She thinks that she’s too old but he encouraged her as best he could. The next day, he had cleared out a room for her to set up her art studio in.

She does a lot of portraits, a whole lot of her portraits are of him. Or Cuddles. Or him with Cuddles in bed because sometimes, she leaves the door open when she’s up before him, and the cat comes in to nestle against his body. Dean can be mad all he wants but she just doesn’t care and Cuddles seizes the opportunity every damn time.

There are also fights they have. Of course there are. It’s mostly because he’s doing something stupid that makes her blood boil. Like running late for a date night he promised that he could make, or staying in his office too long when he said that he’ll just be a minute taking the call. There’s also a lot of petty fights he could list off the top of his head. Most of the time she’d slam doors, but there were also times where she just took the car and was gone for hours. He absolutely hates it when she just up and leaves. He can live with slamming doors but her going away, that terrifies him the most. She always comes back though, and he’ll sit down, cheers her up as best he can, and in the end, he could always make her laugh. 

He had made it a habit not to let her go to sleep angry so they tend to talk things through when they are both lying in the dark, maybe it’s easier that way. Easier when you can’t see but can only feel. Apparently, he’s a talker now, too. 

  
  
  


***

  
  


He’s sitting on the sofa, his hands fidgeting with his phone while he waits for her to come home. She’d told him that she’ll go dress shopping for the fundraiser. But apparently, she met a male companion which he found out about when one of his men saw her sitting in a café with said guy.

“Hey,” she greets him as she walks in, dropping her shopping bag at the door and Dean stands up.

His heart is racing stupidly fast, he threads a hand through his hair. “Where were you?” He didn’t mean for it to come out as accusatory as it did.

“What do you mean?” 

“Who’s the guy you were with?” Dean bites his tongue, closes his eyes because he really didn’t want to be _that_ kind of boyfriend. He reminds himself that she trusts him so at least he should show her the courtesy of trusting her as much. There’s something nagging away at the inside of him, though. Maybe because someone else knew about it before she even told him.

“Are you spying on me?” She gets loud and there’s something in her eyes which Dean detects as disappointment.

Dean scratches at his scruff, “No, but one of my men saw you. It’s just a little weird that my men know more than I do.” There, he said it.

“I can’t believe we’re arguing about this!” 

“Well, maybe we don’t have to argue when you tell me who it was?”

“Did your man also tell you that there was another person at my table? That it was a regular from the Roadhouse and his wife? They were in town for a pregnancy scan and the woman pees so much that she rarely sits still for fucking ten minutes? They just asked if I wanted to get coffee with them and they were telling me their good news!”

Dean’s mouth opens and closes, he’s trying to come up with something. Something that would justify what he accused her of but his brain stays empty. To be fair, he didn’t really accuse her of anything but they both know where this would lead to, even if Dean really doesn’t want to admit it.

“I thought so.” She just says and turns around to leave.

He couldn’t even tell her to stay.

  
  


*

  
  


Dean tried his best, he really did. Told Bobby to bring around food, got out and bought some flowers and chocolate. Got her favorite wine out of the pantry and opened it. He then waits, and really hopes that she’ll come home tonight too. Like she always does.

As Dean predicted, she comes home not even five minutes after he finishes setting everything up. Walks in with her short legs and from the way she walks, he can tell that she’s still mad.

She stops when she sees the things he pulled out of his sleeves and breaks down crying. 

_That went well_ , Dean thinks. He really didn’t want to make her cry. He’s halfway across the room to pick her up from the floor but she told him to stay where he is. 

She moves to lean her back against the wall, pulls her knees up and hugs them against her chest. “You know, every time I argue with you, I get into the car and drive. I don’t know where I’m going. All I know is that I want to get away from you and go to my best friend, tell them how stupid and ridiculous you are, how you get on my nerves, how you drive me fucking crazy!”

Dean walks over, sits on the floor across from her, his back resting against the kitchen counter. He doesn’t say anything, just listens.

“And then I realize that I have no best friend I can whine and complain about you. I have no one to tell what an idiot you’ve been. No one to tell how happy you make me, no one to tell that I think I might love you.”

He was _not_ prepared to hear that. 

She goes on, “Then, after driving around for a while, I realize that I actually do have a best friend. And the friend is you. You’re the one I wanna talk to when I’m happy. You’re the one I wanna talk to when I’m sad. You get it, you know me. And that’s it, you’re my best friend and my boyfriend and then it hits me that this is not right. It’s not healthy!”

“What if it is?” Dean asks, and adds, “What if I can be both to you and you’re everything to me? Are we less of a couple because we turn to each other? Does that invalidate our relationship and friendship?”

“I don’t know,” She sighs, “I just know that I need my best friend to trash talk about you right now.”

Dean gets up to get two food containers, pours wine into two glasses and carries it all over to the floor. She just looks at him like he’s crazy. He let her take the glass and food container out of his hand before he sits down next to her. 

Y/N picks at her fries, pushes one of them into her mouth. 

He takes a bite out of his burger, talks while he chews, “Did you have a fight with your boyfriend?”

She snorts out a laugh, “Yeah, he’s being ridiculous. He was jealous because one of his men saw me drinking coffee with a _guy_.” She plays along, and air quotes the word ‘guy’.

“One of his men? Who the hell has _men_?”

“Yeah, he’s apparently a big bad guy that everyone fears but in reality he’s really a cinnamon roll.”

Dean snorts so loud the food almost drops out of his mouth. 

“Ugh. What an idiot,” Dean says. “Did he tell you that he was sorry?”

“He actually didn’t, but he showed me. Getting me flowers and all that shit.”

Dean takes a sip of wine to wash down the food with, “What a loser, doesn’t he know that you don’t even like flowers?” 

“Right? He probably thinks it’s cute.” She says.

“My advice as a best friend?” He says and tilts his head towards her, sees her raising an eyebrow. “It pains me to say this but maybe you should leave him.”

She chuckles, lowers her face and picks at her fries again. “I can’t.”

“Why?”

“Because I think I love him.”

That’s it. He can’t just sit still anymore, pushes his food container and glass out of reach, his hands grabbing her then, manhandling her onto his lap. Her fingers come up to play with the buttons of his shirt. 

“You do?” He asks, he’s sure she can feel his heart beating underneath the palm of her hands on his chest.

“Yeah,” Y/N’s head is lowered down, she’s avoiding his eyes.

He pushes his fingers underneath her chin, making her look up and waits until she focuses her eyes on his.

“I think he loves you too.”

There’s a smile on her face, and he thinks _fucking_ _finally_ because it’s real torture not to see that beautiful smile. 

He pulls her down by the back of her neck, kisses her soft and sweet. 

“You do?” She asks when they part.

Dean chuckles, “Always have. I fell in love the night I saw you and you smiled at me because I think you knew.”

  
  
  


***

  
  


Tonight, as soon as he walks through the door, he immediately has to pick up her jacket from the floor to hang it over the hook at the entrance. On his way to the bedroom, he finds her discarded pants. Dean picks that up too, carries it into the bedroom and places it on her side of the bed. Her top is on the floor to the entrance of the bathroom. He goes in, finds more things on the floor. Her bra, her socks, her panties which made a straight line to the bathtub. 

There’s bubbles everywhere as he came to stand before her. Y/N looks up at him, a grin on her face and bubbles on her nose. He purses his lips into a smile, trying not to think that she’s the cutest thing he’s ever seen. “You leaving your clothes lying around is not a good way to turn me on.”

“No?” She asks with that innocent look in her eyes. 

Strangely it works, even if they both know that she’s not innocent. Not at all. At least not when she begs for him to fuck her faster. Not at all innocent, when she wants him to spank her harder. 

“That’s not fair,” He breathes out, feels defeated.

“What?” She says but she knows because that grin on her face got cocky all of a sudden.

He starts to take off his suit jacket, pulls his shirt out of his pants and unbuttons it, slips it over his head because he can’t be bothered to unbutton them all the way. He looks at her before he unbuckles his belt and there’s a smile of a winner on her face. He hates it, wants to kiss it away. 

Dean drops his pants, takes off his socks and at last, frees his half hard cock. He can’t help it. Still gets hard immediately whenever he sees her. 

“I’m calling big spoon!” She says, moves back and pats the water in front of her to tell him where he has to be.

He rolls his eyes, “You don’t _call_ big spoon.”

“Why not?”

“Because,” Dean says, gets in — of course in front of her, and adds, “That’s not how it works!”

“Well, it works for me,” Y/N shrugs before hugging him around his upper body, places her chin on his shoulder. Her hands find the loofah she once bought for the bathtub, and rubs it along his chest and arms. Dean leans back a little more, closing his eyes. “Why is there blood at the back of your ear?”

Shit, he didn’t wash himself good enough at the bunker, was in too much of a hurry to get home.

“Deal gone wrong,” He says, doesn’t lie to her but also sparing her the details. 

She doesn’t say anything, doesn’t ask more, only washes the blood away with the loofah. And Dean’s thankful for that, thankful that she never freaks out when she sees him coming home with blood stains, when he sometimes comes home when the sun’s already up. She’d be asking why but she never presses for more details. Details that Dean would give her if she really wants to know but he’s glad that she never asks.

“How do you feel?” She asks as she places little kisses on his neck and shoulders. 

Her hands skids down his abdomen along his hips, strokes his thighs with just the tip of her nails. It does something to him, he can’t lie.

“Better now.” He says and closes his eyes. “Feels go— holy shit!”

Y/N has one hand around his cock, one cradling his balls at the same time and she laughs into the back of his neck.

“Does this feel good too?” She licks at his throat, sucks at his pulse point.

“Super good.” He closes his eyes back again.

After a while Dean can’t help but fuck up into her fist. He turns his upper body around, seals his lips around hers and kisses her hungrily as she continues to jerk him off.

“Baby,” He’s breathing hard, pulls himself together, doesn’t want to come yet. “I really want to come in you.” 

He likes that the most. Coming inside of her so deep that she leaks him a day later. He loves the thought of her going about her day with his cum leaking out of her, feels a weird sense of pride.

“Come on,” He stands up and gets out of the tub, fishes her out of it and carries her over to the shower. He turns on the shower head and drops her down, helping her clean herself and him from excess bubbles.

Dean’s towels himself off and holds a towel ready for her, wraps her in it and carries her out to the bedroom.

Dropping her off onto the bed, he unwraps the towel around her body, feels like a kid unwrapping its present.

“How do you want me?” Y/N whispers in a playful seductive voice and honestly whenever she uses that voice, he’s ready to give her the world.

He rids himself from his towel, bends down to kiss her. “How do you want me?” Taking her question and throwing it right back at her. 

Dean’s really okay with everything she wants. She’s been experimenting more lately, and had told him that he’s awakened kinks in her she never knew she had. So far spanking and choking are still high on her list, and Dean’s perfectly fine with that. Sometimes she asks to choke him too, and god, he really doesn’t know how he deserves her.

She reads a lot of magazines, and decides that some kinks are really weird and she’s not gonna touch them with a 10-inch pole. However he was surprised that one day when she was sucking his dick, she wanted to go further down. Said she heard it was supposed to feel good for men, and she said it with that seductive playful tone in her voice that Dean couldn’t find it in his heart to deny her that, even if he would have tried. That was the story of how she rimmed his asshole. And to his surprise, he really really enjoyed it and came so hard, he thought he passed out.

“I want you to fuck me from behind.” She has her hand clasped over her face, still feels embarrassed to say things like that and it’s really cute.

“Then get up on all fours.”

He watches her climb up their bed, watch her position herself to face the mirror, because that’s how it is, he still wants to be able to see her and the only condition that he would fuck her from behind is if there’s a mirror somewhere. 

Dean follows her, walking closer on his knees. “On your elbows, sweetheart.” He says and places his hands on both her ass cheeks, spreading them, kneading them. “Christ, look at you, so fucking perfect.”

He brings his hand down, spanking her twice in successive strikes. The light from their bedside tables illuminates the room enough for him to see his handprints. He kneads at her flesh, red and pulsing. 

“Fuck,” He says it more to himself as he lowers his face, licks into her pussy, his nose buried in her asscrack, while his hands spreads her wide open. 

Y/N whimpers and withers, grinding her ass against his face so much that Dean needs to remind her to stay still by spanking her twice more. “Babe, you gotta let me do this in my own time.”

“I want you to fuck me.” She whines, and then she even begs, “Please?”

He lifts his head from her cunt and whispers, “I barely prepped you,” 

“Don’t need prep, I’m ready, likes it when it hurts a little, please, Dean!”

He’s so fucking gone. He knows he should put his foot down, knows he should tell her that she’ll be sore if she won’t let him do this but he’s also fucking weak for her. How can he deny her this?

“I swear, if you’re sore tomorrow I’m not gonna take care of you.” He tries to sound annoyed, but he doesn’t think that it came across that way because who is he kidding? Of course he’s gonna sit down with her and massage her to make things better. 

Dean pushes in two fingers, feels that she’s plenty wet. That’s never been a problem with her anyway, but still.

He spits into the palm of his hands, strokes himself some more before he positions his dick at her entrance. Spreading her ass cheeks, he pushes in, watches as his dick disappears into her wet pussy, groans at how good it feels. 

“You feel so good.” He says, his voice a little broken.

She keens before him, “More. More, Dean. I want you deep.”

_Jesus Christ!_

He works his hips forward, only stops when he bottoms out. Has to still as not to fucking come but she’s having none of it, works herself forward and back, starts to fuck herself on him. 

“Baby, fuck,” Dean breathes hard, once, twice. Brings his hands down, spanks her once more, just because he can.

“Faster, Dean.”

He brings his hands down again, let them rest on her cheeks and uses it for leverage as he moves his hips faster, harder until he has to slow down because she’s wearing him out.

“On your chest, baby, ass up, stay on your knees.” He says, pushing her forward. “Just like that.”

She has her face on the mattress but her eyes still stare at him through the mirror. 

“Hands back here, spread your ass for me.”

Her hands come up to the back, hold her ass cheeks apart and Dean can see his dick stretching her pussy as it goes in and out. What a fucking beautiful sight.

“That’s it,” He whispers, has to keep himself from drooling. “Good girl,”

There’s a clench of her pussy. Happens every time he praises her. It became his weakness too. 

He sucks in his middle finger, makes it wet and works it along her rim before resting it against her asshole. He pushes in a little, feels it opening up to hug the tip of his finger. “Where’s my finger, baby?”

Y/N’s mumbling something incoherent at first and he has to ask again.

“In— in my ass.”

“In your ass, that’s right. Do you like it there?”

“Shit, yes!” The flush of her face spreads to her upper back. “You can go deeper, the pressure is so good.”

Dean chuckles, “You’re fucking amazing,” 

He starts to fuck her harder again as he works his middle finger in. Wonders if she would let him fuck that hole too, thinks that if she would he wouldn’t survive it because it’s so tight his dick would probably fall off.

When Dean can’t take it anymore, he pulls his finger out of her asshole, spanks her once, twice, before he works his hand around her hip, gripping her tight.

“I’m close. Go on, touch yourself.” 

She props herself back on her elbow, brings a hand to her mouth, licks at her fingers before she brings it between her legs to rub at her clit. 

Her face is all red, it has spread to her throat too and she’s close. He knows it because it got significantly tighter in there.

Dean fucks into her as deep he can, feels his balls drawing up, there’s a tingle in his spine.

“Oh god,” Y/N says, “You’re so deep, fuck.”

She comes then, collapsing onto her chest and buries her face into the mattress, if Dean had closed his eyes to come a second earlier, he would have missed seeing her face. 

He bottoms out, pushes as deep as his dick would go and comes inside of her before he collapses on her back, holds himself up a little as not to crush her. He kisses her shoulder, the nape of her neck.

“I think my soul just left my body.” He breathes and she laughs at that. 

Dean rolls down and away from her to give her some space and hears her whine because his dick slips out. She always hates that feeling. Dean doesn’t particularly love it either. 

He’s laying on his back and spreads his arm to let her nestle herself beside him. His fingers lazily strokes her back, up and down along her spine. “You’re so perfect it kills me.”

She places her chin on his chest, looks him in the eye. “La petite mort.”

And he thinks, yes, that’s fitting. 

  
  



	24. Chapter XXIV

Y/N’s getting herself ready in the bathroom, had waited until Dean was finished because she wanted to have the bathroom to herself and also because Dean has never seen the dress and she kind of wants to see his reaction to it. Although he says that he doesn’t really care what she wears anyway because at the end of the day, he’s got to take it off her body, and she can’t understand how he can be so blunt and says things like that with a straight face while she blushes like a tomato. 

The dress’ color is maroon. Mainly because Dean thinks all shades of red suit her. Well no, actually he said he likes the blush in her cheeks and the red of her ass when he spanks her. She takes it, though. Went out to find a dress and found one that she could even actually afford with her own money but she still made Dean pay for it. Even though it bothers her a lot but officially, she still doesn’t really have a job and he doesn’t think she has any income so Dean has given Y/N her own credit card once and said that she shouldn’t worry about spending too much but still, she rarely uses it.

She’s seen Dean when he got out of the bathroom, already looking all dapper and ridiculously hot in his smoking. And really it’s not fair. He has no business looking that good, no one does. She thinks she’ll never get used to how good he looks and the guy’s not even trying! There are days when he rolls out of bed like he just came home from a photoshoot and it’s frustrating to say the least because when she rolls out of bed she looks like a truck ran her over while she was sleeping. Several times at least.

This is only the second time she’s going to an event as his date and she’s nervous because other than last time, this time they’re really going as a couple. She is kind of a little scared of the women there because obviously nobody will think that she’ll deserve someone as good looking as Dean. And she can’t even blame them. Even though it’s not only about looks but she thinks that she also doesn’t deserve someone as sweet and caring as Dean, so there’s that.

“Are you ready? The limousine is waiting!” He calls in from outside, he must be standing at the kitchen counter, nervously looking at the watch on his wrist, she doesn’t know why but she can picture him getting antsy.

“No?” She shouts out, because she’s not.

“Jesus Christ.” Dean mutters under his breath and it’s not particularly loud but she hears it nonetheless.

“I can hear you!” She calls out from the bathroom.

“Good!”

She can hear him pace around in the living room. The heels of his dress shoes click loudly on the hardwood floor. She can hear how the sound is getting fainter. He probably goes into his office, most likely he’s trying to catch up on things until she’s ready.

Ten minutes later Dean walks towards the bedroom again, she can hear his steps. “We really need to go!”

No baby, no sweetheart. Not even mentioning her name. He’s grumpy as can be and she thinks it’s cute.

“Relax, I’m ready!” She shouts out, walks out of the bathroom and switches off the light of the bathroom on her way out.

To her surprise, Dean’s sitting on the bed, waiting for her.

Y/N smiles and she sees his jaw dropping just a little as she comes to stand before him. 

He places his hands on her waist, fingers spanning over her lower back. He really can make her feel so small. 

Dean looks up at her with a spark in his eyes. “You look super hot.”

She has to laugh, “Awe, and there I thought you’d say I’m pretty.”

“You are. It’s just... you’re super hot too!” He sneaks his hand down and below the skirt of her dress, kneads her ass, making her bite down on her bottom lip.

“Can I kiss you or will I have lipstick all over?”

“It’s kiss proof.” 

“Come on, gotta test that,” He grins, and motions with his head for her to bend down to him. His hands still rests on her ass.

She bends down, her hands braced on his broad shoulders as she kisses him, and it isn’t long until it grows heavier, like it always does with them. It builds up so fast it makes her head spin. She parts, comes up for air and stands back up because if she doesn’t, they won’t get there on time.

Dean’s hand sneaks to the front, rubs at her clit, she’s getting embarrassingly wet already. Before she knows it, he hooks his fingers into the waistband of her panties, pulling them down. 

“Hey!”

He looks at her like he doesn’t understand her outrage. 

“What are you doing?” Y/N hisses at him.

Dean grins his stupid cocky grin and he lets her step out of them, holds them out against her dress, as if he compares the colors. It matches because she made sure of it. 

Bunching up the fabric, he puts it into the front pocket of his smoking jacket. “I’m using it as my pocket square. So we’ll match.”

The smile on his face is incredibly big.

  
  
  


***

  
  
  


“Who’s gonna be there?” She asks as they were sitting in the back of the limousine. Her hand is in Dean’s. She starts to sweat a little, an indication that she is getting nervous. He’s not, because he’s used to such big events. She doesn’t think it’s fair that he’s so relaxed.

“Cas and Gabe will definitely be there. Maybe Ash, too. I don’t think you know the rest.”

“Great.” She huffs out before she looks out the window, watches as they pass streetlamps before she turns towards Dean again. “Can’t we just stay in?” 

He chuckles, spreads his arms and she cozies herself up against his chest. “Come on, sweetheart, we just get this over with and then leave as soon as we can.” He kisses her temple, “I’ll stay by your side, I promise. If I have to leave you for whatever reason, you’re allowed to annoy the hell out of Cas.”

“I like Cas!”

“You like to get on his nerves.”

She laughs because it’s true. “He’s so easy to wind up.”

Dean laughs with her, “I know.” His hands grab her, maneuvering her over his lap so she’s straddling him. 

She punches at his chest, “Dean! Your pants! I don’t wear any panties.”

Dean raises an eyebrow at her, as if to say  _ Do I look like I care _ before he pulls her down for a kiss. He wants to distract her, she knows and strangely, it works.

After a while Dean comes to his senses about her warning him that she didn’t wear panties so he drops her next to him but keeps on kissing her. His hands sneak under her skirt, fingers rubbing at her clit.

“Dean,” She says but he doesn’t stop, to be fair, she didn’t really  _ say _ stop, enjoys it too much. He sinks two fingers in easily, she’s soaked by now, while he keeps on thumbig at her clit. 

“We’re here Mr. Winchester.” The driver could be heard via the car's own speaker. They have rolled up the divider when they got in. In hindsight, a good call, because that would have been embarrassing. 

“Awe, guess we’ll have to finish you later, baby.” Dean grins, kisses her again and she lets out a frustrating groan. 

Dean licks his fingers clean, kisses her one last time while she tries to right her dress before they get out. He leaves first, waits by the door and holds out a hand for her to take.

“What is Crowley’s fundraising for?” She whispers as they walk beside each other, her arm around his. 

“As far as I know him, it’ll most likely be his own pocket.” Dean’s voice is low and he keeps up the smile on his face. “But officially I think it’s for a children’s hospital.”

“Great.”

“Okay, here we go, ready?” They round up a corner and there’s a big door that leads to a ballroom. 

“No?”

“That’s the spirit.” Dean chuckles and leads her towards Crowley and his men.

There’s someone standing with his back turned to them who’s talking to Crowley. The posture of the man looks kind of familiar.

Dean and her approach the group and she hopes that Crowley’s not pissed at her anymore. 

“Winchester!” Crowley greets Dean, interrupting the other man’s speech which she thinks Crowley didn’t really listen to in the first place, because Crowley looked kind of bored when they approached. 

“Crowley,” Dean greets him, extends a hand for a handshake.

In that moment, the man with his back to them turns around and it’s like the floor has been swept from under her feet. Suddenly, her heart starts to beat out of her chest, she thinks she’s starting to hyperventilate and clutches to Dean for support. She feels nauseous and close to fainting. Dean couldn’t have missed it, puts a hand around her waist, helps her by holding her up. 

“You remember Y/N, don’t you?” Dean asks Crowley and she knows that he’s only doing it out of courtesy, probably wishes that he could lead her away more than introducing her to Crowley. Dean holds her a little tighter, he probably wants to get this over with as quick as he can.

She tries to keep herself together, smiling and extends a hand to Crowley. He takes it, kisses the back of her hand. “How could I forget,” Crowley says with a grin and then he adds, “Fool me once, right?”

She pretends to laugh. 

When Crowley steps back, he signals for his entourage to come over.

_ Shit shit shit. It’s him. It’s really him! _

She stands beside Dean, her hands not wanting to let go of his arm and he knows that something’s up because she usually isn’t like this.

He pulls her to the side, and turns his back on Crowley as Crowley’s people approach. “What is it? You’re shaking. And don’t tell me that everything’s okay.”

“It’s,” She starts, trying to find the right word, “Remember the stalker I once told you about?”

“How could I forget? Still wanna kill that motherfucker.” Dean hisses grumpily.

“Yeah, anyway, that’s the stalker right there. Next to Crowley.” 

“What?” Dean’s voice is loud. And then he tilts his head to peek over his shoulder. “Who? Cain?”

Y/N didn’t want to say his name in case she was wrong but now she has the confirmation. “Yes. That’s him.”

“Fucking Christ.” Dean curses, rubbing at his face with the hand that’s not helping to hold her up. “I can’t kill that guy. Not now anyway, but believe me as soon as I get a chan—”

“—I didn’t say you have to kill him, Dean. Just, be aware? Don’t leave me tonight.”

“Not when I can avoid it.” Dean growls, then pulls her close, kisses her forehead. “We can give him a show, though.”

“And make him angry? Right. Do you think it’s wise to make a stalker mad?”

“Well, maybe he has given up on stalking you and is now maybe happily married?”

She lowers her face, looks to the floor. “I hope so.”

He pushes his finger beneath her chin, making her look up to him. “I got you, alright?” 

She nods as Dean kisses her, longer than he should because Crowley’s already clearing his throat audibly. 

“Right, we should take a seat.” Crowley says, “You two are sitting with me. And Dean, you’ve met Cain.” Crowley says and Cain extends his hands, Dean hesitates at first but then he takes it because Dean’s a professional. Of course he is. “Y/N, darling, this is Cain.” Crowley introduces her to Cain. She acts like she meets him for the first time. Maybe that’ll help? Maybe he doesn’t even remember her anymore?

“We know each other,” Cain says with a stupid grin on his face and she looks at Dean, sees him clenching his jaw. “We used to date a while back. It’s nice seeing you again, Y/N.”

  
  
  


_____________________________

  
  
  
  


Dean couldn’t have missed the look Cain sent him. It’s a jubilant one, one he uses himself sometimes when he knows he’s won. And at the moment, Cain’s challenging him. As if he says that he’s been there before. As if he’s gloating, something that says,  _ I found her first. _

It’s like a hit in Dean’s heart. He hates it. Wants to sucker punch the man square in his fucking jubilant face. 

Dean tightens his grip around Y/N, pulls her even closer by her waist. “Your loss is my win.” 

“Be careful or she might break your heart.” Cain says and fucking winks at Y/N. 

Dean balls his fists, is so close to lash out but then she places her hand on his, easing the tension.

  
  
  


*

  
  
  


They sit down at the table, it’s just Dean and Y/N surrounded by Crowley and six of his men. Cain’s sitting right across. It’s great. Just super peachy that Dean, and most of all Y/N, have to stare at fucking Cain all night.

Crowley makes the round at the tables, Dean sees Cas and Gabe two tables away, nods at them. 

A waiter comes around with champagne and Dean shamelessly tells the waiter to leave the whole tray here. 

“Oh god, I will need even more to survive the night,” Y/N sighs and takes a flute, empties it in one go, and that’s his girl, alright. Because Dean’s thinking the same thing.

Next time a waiter comes around, Dean tells him to go get a bottle and to bring it asap.

“So, who should I be aware of,” She says as she looks around, “Any enemies?”

Dean turns in his chair, their faces almost touch because she peeks back, her hands on the back of the chair. He takes a look around himself. “No enemies tonight, just acquaintances. There’s a man in the back, white suit?”

“Yeah.”

“That’s Asmodeus. He owns a big production company. Produces porn. A typical sex maniac. Don’t go near him because he would want you to star in one of his films — which honestly, I would probably wat—“

She drives her elbow in his ribs. 

“Ouch! What was that for?”

“Oh, you know!”

Dean laughs, and goes back on spying. He knows that they must look ridiculous but he really didn’t care. 

“Oh,” Dean grins, “Look, Amara.” 

She rolls her eyes at that. And he goes on. “She’s sitting with Azazel. He’s one of the best lawyers for people in my line of work. Guess she has found some gold to dig, huh?”

They were to go on but Crowley interrupts them. “So, darling, I’m having an auction going on later where I will auction off a personal assistant for twelve hours. Would you be interested? It’s for charity and some girls have already agreed.”

Dean opens his mouth, the word  _ no _ already sitting on his tongue but then he sees that Cain’s watching them, remembers that Cain’s a possessive little bastard and that Cain certainly would never allow Y/N to do something like this, so against his better judgement, Dean just asks, “How much of it will really go to charity, though?”

“All of it.” Crowley answers with a deadpan look on his face. “It’s for kids, Winchester. I’m not a monster!”

Dean has to hold back his laugh.

And then Crowley adds, “Is she allowed?”

She’s looking at him, there’s a glint in her eyes and Dean says, “She’s a big girl, she can decide that for herself.”

“Yeah, of course I’ll do it.” 

She smiles at Crowley and the man claps his hand together, “Excellent!”

When Crowley’s gone, she lowers her face to Dean and whispers, “You better bid on me,”

He shrugs, “I mean, I already have you most of the time? I might bid for someone el—”

Her hand is on his crotch underneath the table, squeezing his dick and starts rubbing it. She’s grinning. “You sure?”

Dean grins his trademark shit-eating grin, pulls her close by the back of her neck, kisses her quick and dirty. “Two can play that game, baby.”

  
  
  


*

  
  
  


The food arrives but Dean’s not really hungry, never liked those fancy dishes anyway, he’d rather have a burger, or a sweet pussy. He thinks of pussy because he basically has his fingers at her clit right now, rubbing her good and fast, while she pretends to eat and it’s almost cute how she tries to control herself so as not to moan out loud. 

Dean’s sure that the other people won’t notice but Cain does. Of course he does, because that dude’s been watching them since they sat down. He also didn’t move once. Dean doesn’t recall him talking to anyone else than Crowley, too.

He feels her gripping his wrist. “Dean,” 

Leaning towards her, he kisses her temple. “You okay?”

“Uh-huh,” She puts down her fork.

“Uh-huh? You wanna come?” 

“I just did.” She grins and Dean’s kind of disappointed in himself that he missed that. Missed the clench of her pussy around his fingers. Missed the flutter of her eyelids, just because he was thinking how much Cain bothers the fuck out of him.

Dean takes his fingers out of her, kisses her temple, whispers in her ear as he kneads the flesh of her thighs, “I think someone’s jealous.”

Cain’s sitting there, the fingertips of the hand around the man’s fork already turning white.

  
  
  


*

  
  


Crowley’s on the stage now. Oh that little leprechaun just loves attention.

“Ladies and Gentlemen,” Crowley announces and Dean leans back on his chair, his arm drapes over the back of her chair and she leans to his side as they listen. “As some of you who were here the last couple of years already know that we have an auction besides our silence auctions.”

“So you knew about this.” She whispers.

“Yeah.”

“You ever bid on a PA?”

He chuckles, “Nah,”

Crowley goes on, “We are now auctioning off PA’s. The winner will receive twelve hours with a personal assistant who will carry out whatever tasks the bidder needs — within reason of course!”

Everyone’s laughing.

“They can use their personal assistant to complete chores around the house, run errands, file taxes…you name it! No matter what they use their assistant for, the winner will be able to save the time that they would spend taking care of business to spend time relaxing and doing what they actually want to do!”

“Sounds fair,” She says and Dean bites back the comment that's already sitting on his tongue. Because he knows that they’re most likely won’t be doing any chores.

“The first one is a fresh face. It’s her first time and I’m delighted that she agreed to it. Y/N, would you please get on stage, darling?”

She gets up and Dean’s hand is on her wrist. “You can still back out.” 

There’s a small smile on her face. Something that says  _ I’m okay _ and he lets her go.

Dean watches as she walks up the stairs to the stage, her hands nervously tucks at the skirt of her dress, probably because she wants to avoid flashing her pussy. He’s glad the dress is long enough, otherwise the bidding amount will shoot up astronomically. 

Crowley has an arm around her waist as he begins the auction. “Since she’s new and nobody knows her yet, we’ll start off which a number I think is fair. Starting bid is $1,000.”

“One thousand five hundred.” Gabe shouts and Dean snorts because Gabe likes to wind him up too.

“Two.” Cas lifts his hand.

_ Really? _ Dean mouthed at his men and they both just shrug. 

“Five thousand!” Cain shouts and it takes everything Dean has not to fucking launch himself across the table.

“Seven thousand.” Crowley says into the mic and shrugs when Y/N looks at him in disbelief.

“Eight.” Asmodeus lifts his arm in the back.

_ Oh you fucker _ , Dean thinks, but he’s not bidding. Not yet.

“Ten thousand!” Cain shouts and seriously Dean thinks the dude’s playing with fucking fire. 

“Twelve.” Azazel calls out and Dean looks back to see Amara frown at her date.

“Fifteen.” Crowley says. 

“Twenty.” Asmodeus tries his luck again.

“Twenty-five thousand.” Azazel shouts. By now Amara empties her glass in one go.

“Thirty.” Someone else in the back joins in and Dean turns around to see that it’s a woman he knows as Billie. He’s never interacted with her though.

“Forty thousand.” Cain announces with a smug grin.

“Jesus, do you even have that much money?” Dean hisses at Cain.

“I haven’t been going out or anything. So yeah, I do.” Cain spits back.

“Forty-five.” Crowley says now.

Dean can see that she feels uncomfortable up there. Feels an urge to end this fucking madness. 

“Seventy.” Dean says and everyone gasps.

“That would be a first, darling. Highest bidder until now was fifty thousand. You must be really really special.” Crowley says into the mic.

“One hundred thousand!” Cain shouts as he stands up. There’s a round of applause and people are whispering.

Dean rubs over his face, scratches his scruff.

“All time high, love,” Crowley’s laughing. “Ladies and Gentlemen, one hundred is the highest bid. Anyone else? Going once, going twi—”

“—Two hundred thousand.” Dean stands up, slams his fist on the table that makes the glasses jump and liquid spill out. He never once looks at Crowley or Y/N, has his eyes trained on Cain, challenging the guy. 

“Gone, gone, gone!” Crowley cheers, “Congratulations Winchester, come get your girl.”

Crowley’s already announcing the next woman as Dean almost runs towards the stage but she’s not really happy to see him. He spreads his arms anyway, tells her to jump. 

Y/N does, jumps into his arms and he’s trying his best to tug the dress down so nobody would see her naked ass.

He walks her back to their table and she pokes at his chest with her finger. “You are an idiot.”

Dean’s one eyebrow climbs up, “What did your boyfriend do now?” Slipping into best friend mode.

That did make her grin, so Dean counts it as a win. He drops her off into her seat, sits back down next to her and she turns around, facing him.

“He just dropped Two hundred thousand dollars like it’s no big fucking deal.” She rolls her eyes.

Dean grins, takes his wine glass and drinks it. “What a dumbass.”

“I know right? Just to prove something. I doubt that I’m even worth that much.” She looks down at her fingers as they are toying with the buttons of his dress shirt.

He cups her face, letting his thumps grace over her cheek. “You’re worth so much more.”

“You shouldn’t waste your money on me. It’s too much.”

“Honestly? I would have gone much higher than two hundred thousand.”

“You’re an idiot.” She mumbles.

“I know.” He steals a kiss before he looks straight forward. 

Cain is watching them.

  
  


_____________________________

  
  
  


Y/N’s in a bathroom stall when she hears two women coming in.

“Oh my god, he just dropped two hundred thousand on a girl!” One of the women said.

The second agreed. “I know? Unbelievable! What does she have that I don’t?”

“Tell me about it! I’ve been trying to get his attention for years. YEARS!”

“Wonder if she’s worth the money, though.”

She finishes, flushes the toilet and opens her stall with a bang, making the women jump in unison. 

They are watching her as she walks to the sink to wash her hands, their heads are low and they avoid eye contact.

Y/N takes the cloth (How fancy! They have cloth here to dry your hands, not some dry paper towel), dries her hands and throws the cloth into the hamper. She takes her time, checks her lipstick, tucks loose strands of hair back, before she walks to the door.

She turns around again before leaving, “By the way, he told me that he would have even placed much higher bids.” She winks and smiles at the women before nodding and disappears out the door.

“Finally I get you alone.” 

It’s a voice that makes her shudder. Her heart skips a beat.

“Cain.” She says, looking around, trying to spot Dean.

Cain’s standing with his back resting against the wall and she takes a step towards him so as to not block peoples way to get in and out of the bathroom. “He’s talking to Crowley. They went to have some privacy.”

“What do you want?” She asks him and her voice might be a little shaky. She tries her best to keep it calm.

“Why couldn’t I find you anymore?” Cain sounds like he’s hurt. “One day you were here and the next you were just gone. All records I used to find, erased, gone.”

“Your affection towards me was not healthy, Cain. I had to get away.” She feels quite uncomfortable, hopes that someone will find her soon. If she would walk away, Cain might get handsy and she doesn’t want that.

“I gave you everything. All I wanted was the same in return!” He shouts but gets softer, knows himself that he shouldn’t make a scene. “You know, your new guy, he’s planning something and they need my help for it. I basically have the future of your guy in my hands. I could run to the authorities, make him lose everything he has, everything he owns.”

She realizes that Cain avoids the word boyfriend deliberately. “Would you?”

Cain chuckles at that. “Oh boy, and lose my four millions? Only a fool would do that.” He sighs and then adds, “But maybe if I have that money, I can win you back somehow.”

She wants to shout at him. Wants to tell him that there’s no fucking way that she would go back to him. Would rather have a penniless Dean than him. But instead she says, “Maybe.”

Kind of hopes that she can help to keep the operation going. Keeps Cain entertained because she doesn’t want Cain of all people to turn Dean in. Even though she knows that in giving Cain hope, she might have just started to dig her own grave.

“There you are!” Cas breathes relief when he finally finds her. Cas looks to Cain and Cain just stands there with an easy smile on his face. 

Cain snorts out a laugh after a while of staring, “And you thought  _ I _ was controlling.”

“Bye Cain.” She says, hooks her arm around Cas’.

“Bye Y/N.”


	25. Chapter XXV

Cas walks beside Y/N, she has her hand hooked through his arm, her grip’s tight around his biceps. She’s shaking. Not particularly because of Cain’s words. Well, maybe a little because he makes it sound like he could bring everyone down and he’s not afraid to do it if she gives him a reason to. She feels like she’s caught between a rock and a hard place. That’s not really true either, she feels like she’s caught between a rock and a soft place, one that is 6ft tall and freckled and she knows which one she would choose if she has to.

“I need a drink.” She mutters under her breath and Cas hears her, guides her through the mass of people and makes a beeline for the bar wordlessly, he doesn't even complain at how hard her grip is on him.

She orders something that for sure will go to her head fast, takes two shots within seconds, inhales and exhales loudly. She closes her eyes, counts to ten before opening them again to see Cas’ staring at her, a crease between his eyebrows. “You okay? Did he do anything to you?”

“I’m okay, don’t worry about it.” Y/N says, because it’s true. She’s feeling so much better already, her head gets woozy.

“I kinda have to be.” Cas purses his lips, gives her a last nod when he sees that she won’t be answering him and turns around to face the dance floor. He leans back, his elbows resting on the bar top. 

There were lots of people dancing, some of them mingling around the edge of the dance floor. 

They watch the dancers in silence for a while when Cas suddenly turns to her and asks, “You wanna dance?” He’s already holding out a hand for her to take, which means that he’s not taking  _ no _ for an answer.

“I must warn you,” She’s laughing as she places her hand in his, clearly feeling light headed from the booze, “I’m a terrible dancer.”

“Can I tell you something?” Cas asks as he leads her towards the middle of the dance floor, dodging some other dancers as they go.

“Of course.”

He has one hand around her waist now and she places her hand on his shoulder. Cas winks, “I’m terrible too.”

They dance and laugh for a while and she’s sure that Cas’ toes are numb by now from her standing on them all the time. 

“May I have the next dance?” Dean’s standing next to them, a stupid grin on his face. She wonders how long he’s been watching them. Wonders if he’s seen that they were terrible dancers. He must have. She’s blushing a little at the thought of him watching her making a fool out of herself.

“Oh my god, I’m a terrible dancer.” She says, her cheeks are flushed and she’s a little out of breath from laughing too much. 

Cas’ mouths something to Dean that looks like ‘ _ terrible’ _ while rolling his eyes.

“I take the chance.” Dean grins and sneaks his hand around her waist, and she places one hand on his shoulder and the other one in his hand. 

Dean starts to lead and surprisingly, she’s not as clumsy as she was with Cas. 

“You’re not bad.” He pulls her a little closer, his big hand is on the small of her back, his fingers span over the whole of her back. She feels safe in Dean’s hands.

“The terrible dancer must be Cas then.”

Dean laughs, “Yeah. Wanna know why?”

“Why?”

“Because Cas can’t lead.”

“What do you mean?”

Dean swings her around, and it’s surprisingly smooth. She also manages not to trip over her own feet. “Because Cas’ never played the male role when we were practicing.”

She raises an eyebrow and looks up to him. “You mean ‘we’ as in you and Cas?”

“Yeah,” He chuckles at the memory. “Dad wanted me to take dancing lessons but then I got Cas’ to play the woman. We practiced so much that I’m quite good but he’s the worst.”

“Oh no, poor guy.”

“It’s okay, I think Anna’s teaching him now.”

She raises her eyebrows in question, “Anna?”

“His girlfriend.” Dean smirks.

“Cas has a girlfriend?” She didn’t know, never thought of one of them having anyone, to be honest. Feels a little guilty because of course they have their own lives too, next to the one they’re living. They must have.

Dean swings her around, avoids bumping into others on the dance floor, “Yeah, she was a GP. A few towns out. Fixed Cas up real good when things went wrong. They’ve been together since and she even moved here to be near him.”

“Awe, I Iove that for Cas.” She’s smiling, and is genuinely happy about it.

Dean chuckles, stops mid dance and leans down to kiss her. He parts after, this thumb comes up to brush at her bottom lip, lingers there too long and she bites on it, which makes Dean grin. “I taste tequila.”

“Yeah, rough night.” She breathes out. 

“There I was about to ask you how you’d feel about me and you drinking a bottle of champagne on the rooftop, but now I’d rather not take the bottle with me.”

“Unless,” Y/N squints her eyes and looks up at him. He’s so cute when he has his lips pursed and there’s a hint of a smile, his dimples showing a little. “You wanna hold my hair back when I puke all over the bathroom.”

“Yeah, hard pass.” Dean says in a playful voice while he leads her away from the dance floor, his hands staying on the small of her back. 

  
  
  


_____________________________

  
  
  
  


They ride up in the elevator, and Dean has a hard time not picking her up and making her ride his hard dick. Has to remind himself that they’re not home and he has to fucking behave.

Now he’s having a key to the rooftop, doesn’t even have to pick the lock. Money buys you access to all kinds of places, apparently.

He opens the door, lets her take it in first. He’s been here a moment ago, helping the employee set up the fairy lights and lounger chair. 

“Wow.” Y/N walks a couple of steps towards the railing. The city light sparkles in the dark. “Did you do all that just to get into my pants?”

“Can’t lie that it’s also part of the plan, yeah,” He walks up behind her, hugs her from behind, kisses the crown of her head. “Come on.”

Dean leads her to the lounger chair, lies on it and looks up to the sky, waits for her to join him. He hates being in the city. Hates it sometimes, that the air is so polluted and the lights are so bright that he can never spot any stars. 

It makes him want to move out even more. Move somewhere where they can always see stars on a clear night sky.

She joins him and he takes her in his arms, letting her rest her head on his chest. 

He kisses the top of her hair, his fingers lazily stroking along her back, “Can I ask you something? From friend to friend?”

She tilts her head up, “Hit me.”

“Right,” He clears his throat, “There’s a girl I kind of have a crush on. And I kinda just bid on her at an auction. Do you think that’s creepy?”

“How much did you spend?”

“Two hundred?”

“That’s not a lot.”

“Thousand?”

“Ugh. You should tone it down a little. But I don’t know, does she like you back or is it one sided?”

“I have a strong feeling that she has a crush on me too. But now I’m afraid that she’s a little mad at me.”

“Ah,” She laughs and braces her forearm on his chest, leans down to kiss him. His heart is making somersaults. “‘M not mad. I just don’t want you to spend money on me.”

“I know, can’t promise that I won’t do it again though,” He sighs and adds, “Sorry I had to talk to Crowley in private.”

“It’s okay, Cas found me.”

His forehead creases, “Found you where?”

“Shit,” She mutters, hides her face in the crook of his neck. 

“Y/N.” He rarely calls her by name he realizes, only does it when he’s a little annoyed with her.

She looks up and mumbles, her mouth still on his shirt, “Cain was waiting for me in front of the bathroom.”

“He what?” It might have come out louder than he intended.

“Yeah, basically asked me why I left him. And then he said that he’s the key to your next  _ whatever it is _ and that he holds the upper hand.” 

_ God dammit. _

“Did he?” Dean controls his voice now.

“I asked him if he would rat you out and he said no because he wants the money you’ve promised him, but I don’t trust him. He also said that maybe he can win me back once he’s rich.”

“Huh,” He breathes out, “And what did you say?”

“Okay, don’t be mad at me alright?”

“Baby,” Dean cradles her face, trails his thumb across her cheeks and pulls her down, kisses her, “I could never be mad at you.”

“Well, you’ve been all shades of annoyed.”

That’s true. Can’t lie about that, but he’s never been mad.

“I told him  _ maybe _ .”

“You what?” Dean shouts out.

“You’re being loud!”

“Oh, I’m sorry,” He says and hisses instead, “You what?”

“I don’t know, I just did it because I want him to keep hoping! So like, that he would keep working for your  _ whatever it is _ ! I know that it’s the worst thing to say to a stalker but,” She buries her face in the crook of his neck again, mumbles into his skin, “You’re mad.”

Dean lets her words sink in before he laughs, making her look up at him as if he’s gone crazy.

“‘M not mad,” He soothes her, smiling a little, too, “You know why I talked to Crowley?”

“No?”

“Because I want Cain out. That dude’s fucking creepy and he doesn’t fucking know his place!”

“And?”

“He’s out. He just doesn’t know it yet. Crowley said he’ll tell him tonight.”

“Wow,  _ that  _ easy?”

“Yeah, Ash’s been working a lot and we have another contact from the company Cain works for.”

“Oh thank god.” She straddles him now, attacks his lips and he smiles into the kiss. 

“So,” Dean says when they part and she grins above him. “What do you say,” He draws figures on her dress with his fingers, “Now that we got this out of the way, can I get in your pants?” 

There’s a glint in her eyes when she moves down his lap to kneel in between his thighs, her lips crooked up at the edges. “Not if I get in yours first.”

Her fingers hastily work on his belt, unbuttons his pants and pulls down the zipper, and there’s that little tongue sticking out at the corner of her lips when she’s concentrating. Dean thinks it’s super cute. 

She cups his cock through his underwear, and laughs when he jerks his hips at the sudden friction. 

Hooking her fingers through his waistband, she pulls it down, and he helps her, lifts his ass so she can push the underwear and pants past his ass. He strokes himself twice, feels his cock hardening at the thought of what’s to come. Not that it wasn’t already half hard before. He doesn’t think  _ soft  _ is a frequent occurrence around her.

Taking his dick in her hands, she licks up along the shaft, and Dean bites back a moan that’s about to escape. Fears that if he starts, he’s gonna lose it too soon.

Y/N’s grinning when she spits on his dick, strokes him one handed and lowers her head down to suck at his balls. She sucks them in, one by one and lets it out with a lewd popping sound, her fist twisting at the head of his cock.

“Baby, if you keep on doing that it’ll be over before you know it.” He’s barely able to hold himself together.

She snorts out a laugh at that and comes back up, sucks in the tip of his cock and works her mouth deeper.

That’s the thing, he usually has very good stamina but with her, that went out the window pretty fast. He makes it up to her though and sometimes, can go twice or even three times in a row when he’s really horny. Mostly his horniness depends on her neediness, and sometimes, she can be insatiable. Not that he minds, he just has a hard time keeping up.

Dean watches her take his cock, it’s not perfect, she can’t take that much in and she’s also not very experienced — mainly also his fault because he doesn’t let her do it that often. It’s a fight of dominance between them, really, because he just loves it a little bit more when he can go down on her and not the other way around.

Even though she's not perfect, she still is. Because it’s  _ her _ .

She fists the part she can’t swallow, and bobs her head to the rhythm. He can clearly see that she enjoys it as much as he does, maybe even a little bit more because she likes that, likes it when she can make him lose his mind.

“That’s it. Just like that, breathe baby, don’t forget to breathe.” She looks up at him, her eyes a little teary but full of determination. “Good girl. You’re taking my cock so well. Your mouth feels amazing.”

Her lips curve into a smile around his cock and there’s a sparkle in her eyes. She’s always so happy when she gets praises and he’s not going to stop giving them. The sight almost makes him burst.

“Okay, okay, easy there tiger,” He whispers as she strokes him hard and fast while giving little pecks on the tip of his leaking head. “Come here,” His hand grips around her arm, pulling her up, kissing her hard.

“You wanna ride my cock?” He breathes into the kiss.

“Uh-huh,”

“Uh-huh? Are you even ready?” His fingers go down to her clit, rubs at it before breaching her pussy to check if she’s ready. Two fingers slip in without any problem, she’s soaked.

“Dean, please,” Y/N whines, moves her hips back and fucks down onto his fingers. “I’m ready, promise.”

He chuckles.

_ So needy. _

“Then hop on, hold your skirt up, I wanna see,” 

She grabs at the hem of her skirt, pulls it up and bunches them around her, jams it into her armpit as she slowly sits herself down onto his awaiting dick.

Dean has to bite down on his bottom lip when he feels her warmth and wetness surrounding him. “Jesus,” He pants. “Oh my god, you feel so fucking good.”

Y/N stays still for a long time, her eyes cross before her eyelids begin to flutter, a soft moan escapes her lips.

He feels her pussy clench around him, squeezing him real tight and after a couple of seconds, she starts to smile and laugh.

“Fuck, baby. Did you just come?” He looks at her with admiration as she begins to bounce up and down his length.

She’s still laughing, “Yeah.”

“Christ, I didn’t do anything!”

“Your cock just hit the right spot, don’t get ahead of yourself,” She’s breathing hard again and he spits into his fingers, brings them down to rub at her clit. 

There it is, the eye crossing before the flutter of her lids. Her pussy flutters too, clamps down and grips at his cock like a vice.

He helps her ride it out, strokes her softly. 

“Do you have, like, a button inside you or what is it?” He asks in disbelief. She can come easily and often but it was never  _ that _ easy.

She bites her lips, grins when she hears it. 

“Alright, sweetheart,” He says, “It’s my turn. Why don’t you lean forward?” 

Leaning forward, they’re chest to chest and Dean keeps one arm around her waist while he pulls her even closer by the back of her neck. He kisses her hot and wantonly as he starts to move his hips, fucks up into her, his movements growing harder and faster. The sound of his wet balls slapping against her ass is loud and obscene. He has to keep on kissing her so as not to let her make too much noise. She moans into his mouth and he drinks it up, like it’s something he needs to survive, and maybe it is.

He pulls her head back a little by her hair and she’s grinning, because she’s come to love that too. Hair pulling. Another kink they found out that she likes. Likes to mix pleasure with pain and who is he to deny her something that is such a fucking turn on for him as well.

“Look at me,” He whispers, low and dark, “I want to see your eyes when I come.”

His hips still work in a wild pace, fucking up into her hard and fast, their breathing mixing as they look at each other. Dean comes so hard he sees fucking stars.

He kisses her after, holds her close as he rocks his hips lazily against her, only stops when his cock softens inside of her.

  
  


_____________________________

  
  
  


Dean couldn’t help it, laid Y/N down and ate her out right inside the limousine. That’s what she was shy about at first too, Dean licking at her sloppy and fucked out cunt, but he makes it seem so natural and doesn’t mind his own cum still dripping out of her pussy.

He made her squirt too and she doesn’t even know if the devider’s been up between them and the driver, and even if it wasn’t, she didn’t really care. He licked her clean after, though, hums his approval while doing it and Y/N still doesn’t understand it. Doesn’t know how someone can enjoy it so much. Like, he really, truly enjoys going down on her and smiles like a kid on a Christmas morning when she would let him. Dean gave the driver a generous tip, because that poor guy needs to do some serious cleaning.

They get into the elevator and Dean leans against the wall, plays with her hair. “How are you feeling?”

“Good, not too tired.”

He raises an eyebrow in question, “You aren’t?”

“Nah, I’m in the right mindset to have more mind blowing sex.” She grins, it’s cocky, she knows, and it’s not entirely true. She’s tired but she just loves winding him up.

Dean snorts, “I mean, don’t get me wrong, that’s really great, but I hope the sex is not with me because I’m beat.” He pulls her close by her dress, leans down a little so their noses touch, “You’re wearing me out.” Dean kisses her before they get out as the elevator signals the arrival on their floor.

They are joking around some more while Dean pulls out the key to his apartment when there’s footsteps echoing on granite flooring.

“Ah, look at the happy couple.” Cain mocks, waving around with one hand that is holding a freaking gun.

  
  
  


_____________________________

  
  
  


Dean’s instinct was to stand before Y/N, shielding her with his own body. His second instinct was to push at the panic button on his key chain, alerting his men. A great little device courtesy of Ash.

She doesn’t want to stay behind him though, pushes herself back to the front. “Cain, what are you doing?”

_ This fucking girl, seriously. _

“Get out of the way Y/N. I just want to talk to your boyfriend for a minute.” Cain’s voice cracks.

Cain’s been crying, Dean can see it, the red of his eyes, his cheek, his nose. 

Dean holds up his hands to let Cain see that he’s not armed and then he speaks, his voice calm and low. “Whatever it is, it’s obviously between you and me, Cain. So why don’t we let her inside. You still love her, don’t you? Do you really want to hurt her? Let her go in and we discuss the issue, whatever it is that upsets you.”

The tall man’s facade is crumbling, he’s weeping openly while he scratches his head with the barrel of a freaking gun. Somehow, Dean thinks that this won’t end well.

“I’m not a fucking idiot, Winchester. When I let her go she’ll call the police.”

“No, no.” Dean tries to calm him down, holding his hands up, fingers spread, “No police. I’m not really friends with them and she knows. You should know that, too. No police.”

Dean tries to push Y/N to the side but she stays in front of him. “Jesus Christ, baby, would you just for once do what I want you to?” He hisses through half gritted teeth.

She doesn’t even listen to Dean and takes a step closer to Cain. Dean’s so fucking close to lose his damn mind with her, “Whatever it is Cain, you can tell me too. Dean doesn’t hide anything from me. What happened?”

“What happened?” Cain laughs a laugh Dean only hears on people that are completely mad in their head. “I just got fired! Fired! Can you imagine, Y/N? It’s all because of him!” He waves his gun in Dean's face.

“I’m sure it’s just a misunderstanding.” Dean tries to calm him down, and she tilts her head to look up at Dean to which Dean shrugs. 

“What are you doing, Cain. This won’t get you your job back?” She asks Cain and takes a step closer and Dean’s not really okay with that, and walks closer to her too. If he can get his will, he’d like for her to be behind him and not wandering closer to a fucking lunatic.

Cain grins, “I figured, if I kill him, I don’t need money to change your mind of coming back to me. Am I right? You’d come back to me, don’t you, Y/N?”

“I don’t think that’s gonna happen, Cain.” Her voice is incredibly calm and Dean’s really impressed.

“Well, I’m gonna kill him anyway.” Cain shrugs and then he aims.

It’s like Dean’s stuck in slow motion. There’s so many things happening at once. Not even in Afghanistan where he fought a war did he see things like he does now. 

Dean sees the gun, sees Cain firing. It’s loud and the next thing he knows Y/N gets in front of him. The impact makes her hit his body before she slumps down to the floor. Her body hitting the granite with a dull thud.

“No!” Dean shouts, “No, no, no!” He crouches on the floor right next to her, his shaking hands touching her face before he inspects her wound. 

She’s hit right below her right clavicle and Dean’s pressing his hands on the wound to stop the bleeding.

“Oh no,” Cain’s on his knees, sobbing uncontrollably, the gun lies abandoned on the ground. “I’m sorry, I didn’t want to. I love her!”

Dean has tears in his eyes himself. “If you fucking love her, then you would fucking pull yourself together and fucking help me here! Call a fucking ambulance! Now!”

He can see how Cain lets the word sink in but instead of helping, Cain sits on the floor and lies down, rolls himself up into a fetus position.

Dean cradles Y/N’s face with one hand while his other one still presses into her wound, his hand bloody and she opens up her eyes just a little. She’s in pain, and it hurts him even more. He presses on the wound harder and there’s a painful groan coming from her throat. “Baby, I’m sorry, I know it hurts. But stay with me alright? I got you, I’m here, I got you.”

Dean tries to pull himself together, manages to jump start his brain again to fish out his phone from his pocket and call an ambulance. 

When he hangs up he hears it.

“Dean!” 

A familiar voice is coming up the stairs. 

“Cas! Get Sergei, pull him out of his fucking bed, I don’t care!”

Sergei is Dean’s in-house doctor and thankfully lives only a floor below him. He can hear Cas turn around on his heels and fly down the staircase.

The doctor rushes up, still in only his underwear and kneels beside Dean. “I’m here, it’s okay.” He says and takes over in putting pressure on the wound. Dean stays there as he watches Sergei work on Y/N. 

Cas picks up the gun from the floor and stands back, keeping Cain in check.

Dean sits back on his heels, brushes away the tears from his face with bloody hands that are shaking uncontrollably. 

He can’t lose her. Not now. Not when things finally start to look up for him! He kneels there, staring at his hands. He hears sirens in the distance.

“I-I’m sorry. I-I-I didn’t mean to hurt her.” Cain’s sobbing voice brings Dean back to reality.

Brushing the tears and snot away from his face, Dean stands up and walks over to Cas, takes the gun from the man’s hand.

“Dean,” Cas says. It sounds like a warning at first but then Cas stands back, and nods at him.

And then everything goes so fast. Dean feels the familiar heaviness of a gun in his hand and launches forward, comes to stand before Cain, gun drawn to the guy’s head. 

Dean’s still crying, his vision is blurred. His hand shakes. 

“No, please.” Cain cries, “I’m sorry.”

Dean bristles with madness and anger. Knows that Cain is the fucking source of it.

“I love her,” Cain shouts. “I love her as much as you do!”

Brushing the tears away with the heel of his left hand, Dean speaks, “No, you don’t.” He breathes in and out. “Nobody loves her like I do.” 

Dean pulls the trigger.


	26. Chapter XXVI

The ride in the ambulance is bumpy and loud. The beeping of machines that keep Y/N alive are noisy and she has a pipe down her throat. Dean’s holding her hand to stop his own from shaking. He’s still crying, the tears drip down the tip of his nose, drops onto the stretcher she’s lying on.

They arrive and Dean follows them as they wheel her in, running through doors until he isn’t allowed to go any further. And it’s hard. Hard for someone who lives in illegality to follow rules and boundaries. It takes everything in him not to burst through that door and go into surgery with her. 

Dean rakes both hands through his hair before crashing his fist against the wall. It hurts. But it’s not nearly enough. Not enough to take the fucking pain away.

He slumps down into the next chair he can find and covers his face with his hand. 

“Dean!” 

At the mention of his name, Dean looks up to see Cas walking towards him. The man sits down next to him wordlessly. Neither of them said a word after.

Dean doesn’t really know how long they have been sitting there. It felt like hours, days — _fucking years_.

“Do you want me to call Sam?” 

“Huh?” Dean jerks his head up and tilts his face to the side to be reminded that Cas’ still here. “No,” Dean says, and then adds, “No, I don’t need him to worry about this life anymore.”

_This life. His life._

_That’s no way to live,_ he once told her.

If it wasn’t for this life, he wouldn’t be here. Y/N wouldn’t have been shot. 

_This life sucks._

“Do you,” Dean starts, “Do you sometimes think how your life would be if you wouldn’t be doing what you’re doing?”

Cas breathes out, “All the time.” And then he adds, “But I also see the good in it. If I wouldn’t be doing all this, I wouldn’t have met you and the rest of the family. It’s not the life that makes it good. It’s the people in it.”

“Yeah, I wouldn’t have met her either.” Dean agrees. “But I still want out.”

“And we’ll get there. Just give it time.”

Dean closes his eyes and leans his head back against the wall. He doesn’t know how much time has passed but when he opens his eyes again, Cas’s standing there with a steaming plastic cup of coffee in his hand.

He takes the cup out of Cas’ hand, realizes that his own hands are still bloody, “Thanks.”

“How is she?” Cas jerks his head towards the door they are not allowed to go through. 

It’s the first time Cas asks about Y/N. He’s considerate. Probably gave Dean time to process before he dared to ask. Dean knows and appreciates it.

“Emergency surgery.” Dean’s voice is small. “She still had a pulse when we arrived, apparently it’s a good sign.” He only hopes it’s enough to keep her the fuck alive.

Cas nods and Dean empties his coffee. They sit in silence some more until someone in scrubs comes out of the forbidden door.

“Are you the one who was with the patient? Dean Winchester?”

Dean stands up too fast, his head’s spinning. He pinches his nose and squeezes his eyes shut for a moment before he manages to answer. “Yeah.”

“She just woke up and asked to see you. I’ll get the papers ready and will be rolling her to her room, if you can just wait a couple of minutes?”

“Yeah, sure.” Dean’s unable to feel his own heart beating. Maybe it stopped. He watches the woman walk towards the door where the reception is situated.

She’s alive.

She’s— _fuck_. Dean’s heart is beating out of his chest.

“Uh, Dean?”

He turns around to see Cas still in his seat. “Huh?”

“Yeah, uh, you might wanna wash your face and hands.”

“Yeah.” Dean says and walks towards the door he’s not allowed to go through.

“The other way.” Cas says.

“Yeah, I know.” Dean answers, he is breathing hard, feels nauseous all of a sudden.

  
  


_____________________________

  
  
  


Y/N vision is still blurry and her throat hurts from something they rammed down there. It makes her cough and every time she does, her wound starts to hurt. She tilts her head to the side, sees Dean talking to the doctor before he walks towards her. 

She can detect a small smile on his face but the rest of it hangs in a dark cloud. His bow tie hangs loose around his neck on either side, the top three buttons of his dress shirt are unbuttoned and his jacket is missing. It’s weird how she can detect small details like this just short out of surgery but her ability to see details is logged in her brain.

“Hey,” He says and kneels down to brace his elbows on her bed, his fingers brush away at the hair on her forehead.

“Hi,” Her voice is scratchy.

“You’re alive.” He kisses her cheek and she really wishes that he would climb into bed and hold her. Wishes for him to blanket her in with his body, make her wake up from this surreal dream.

“Yeah.” She nods to that.

“I’m sorry,” He whispers, takes her hand in his and kisses it. She breaks away from his hand to brush at the tear that rolls down his cheek. 

“Don’t be.” 

“They said you’ll be okay. You were shot below the clavicle, it’s a clean wound. You can go home in a couple of days.”

“Ugh.” Y/N groans out. “I hate hospitals.”

Dean chuckles at that, “Well let me see what I can do with my money to get you home sooner.”

“Stop spending money on me, Dean.”

“I already dropped two hundred thousands, what’s a little more?” He leans down, kisses her forehead.

She doesn’t ask about Cain. Already knows what probably happened. She wants to forget it. Wants to erase it from her mind.

“Dean, I’m tired.” She says instead of asking about Cain, because it’s true. She feels the strain of the surgery, the enormous amount of painkillers that’s still pumping into her body. 

“That’s okay. Sleep, baby. I’ll be here when you wake up, alright?” 

“You don’t have to.”

“I know, but I want to.”

She doesn’t remember a lot but she remembers Dean stroking her head until she fell asleep.

  
  
  


***

  
  
  


Y/N wakes up again to see Dean sitting at a desk in her hospital room. It’s a different room than she fell asleep in. This one is more spacious, has a big couch and a little desk, a table that seats four, off to a wall. But it’s still a hospital room nonetheless. The coziness of it doesn’t change the fact that it’s still ugly and sterile. She hates hospitals. Ugh.

Dean’s working on his laptop, typing out something with a crease between his eyebrows. He’s changed too, is wearing something else. Something with less blood on it but he still looks like a walking billboard ad, except that his scruff is slowly and surely turning into a beard.

She likes that. Likes how much softer he looks with a beard.

Sitting up a little, she also sees that she’s in a different bed. It’s slightly bigger than the one she was in before. She watches Dean work for a while, he’s so deep into his work and lost in concentration that he doesn’t even notice that she’s been awake.

Tilting her head to the side, she looks out the window, they’re quite high up, the next high rise is still towering over them, though. 

There’s a bouquet of flowers on the table next to her bed, her phone is also there, connected to a charger and there’s a jug and a glass filled with water. Next to it, are pain meds. She looks down on herself, sees that she’s still in an ugly hospital gown that probably has her backside wide open.

_Ugh._

Her throat feels awfully dry so she reaches out her hand for the glass. Her hands are still a little shaky, and it takes her two tries to finally be able to grab it. Gently, she puts it to her lips, tilts the glass and takes a sip. Setting the glass back again, she flinches at the pain. Y/N turns her attention back to Dean to see him leaning back in his seat and watching her with a grin on his face. 

“Hi,” She blushes a little because how can she not.

Dean stands up and strolls towards her, his hands in his pants pockets. The smile grows bigger the closer he gets and she forgot how pretty he can be. My god, he’s beautiful. The light makes his freckles stand out. 

His eyes are still a little red rimmed. _Because he cried_ , she thinks. Feels guilty because she didn’t want to make him cry. It wasn’t her intention. 

He sits on the side of her bed, bends down to kiss her forehead. “Hi,” He says when he sits back up. His hands leave his pockets, and one of them is holding her hand while the other one is stroking her cheek. “How are you feeling?”

“Like I’ve been shot at.” She says, grinning a little and Dean rolls his eyes. 

He chuckles at her joke before he pulls himself together. “I was able to move you into a private suite.”

“I don’t even wanna ask how you did that.”

He snorts, “Well, in my defense, it wasn’t me, even if I want to take all the credit for it. It’s actually Crowley who pulled the strings.” And then he goes on, “Anyway, the flowers are from Sam and Jess.” 

“Oh,”

“Yeah,” Dean groans. “Ew, they don’t know you at all.” 

“No, that’s actually nice.”

Dean raises an eyebrow, “So, you accept flowers from everyone else but you don’t want flowers from me, got it.”

She laughs, but that’s a bad idea because it hurts and she flinches, “I just don’t want you to spend money on things that won’t last.”

Dean nods, letting her words sink in but he doesn’t say anything further, instead he looks around before he begins to speak again. “I got Cas to go get things from home. He brought you your phone and a set of clothes for you to change into when you get released.”

“You haven’t been home yourself?”

“No.” 

“Oh,” She says, “And Cuddles?”

“Cas.”

“He’s allergic.”

Dean laughs, “Yeah, I know.”

“Oh my god, poor guy.” 

“Cuddles or Cas?”

She thinks about it. “Probably both.”

  
  


_____________________________

  
  
  


On the fourth day she gets released. Dean had to pull some strings, because she can only be released when all the criteria are met. He quickly employs a nurse and with the help of Sergei, they will be good to go soon.

She walks around in her hospital gown, muttering something while he’s packing his things. 

“Sweetheart, what is it?” Dean zips up his laptop bag, walks to sit on the bed and guides her to stand between his thighs. 

“Cas.”

“Cas?” Dean frowns.

“Have you seen his choice of clothes?”

Dean’s doing his best to bite back a laugh, it’s not really working and she stares him down. 

“I’m sorry,” Dean says, “He probably had good intentions.”

“Dean, a glittery tube dress is not how I wanna dress to go home. Well, at least he brought leggings? So yay?”

He’s still grinning like an idiot, he knows that, but how can he not, she’s cute when she’s upset. “Well, to be fair, I gave him an earful myself when I saw it but he said that he just wanted for you to not use your shoulders too much while getting in and out of shirts.”

Y/N lowers her head, and he knows that she probably rethinks her options. “I’m really thinking about going home with that gown.”

“I wouldn’t mind,” Dean chimes in and it’s the first time that he dares to touch her, touch her ass, and it’s exciting. He missed it, missed the feeling of her flesh underneath the palm of his hands. She hasn’t been wearing underwear and he skids his hands over her bottom, rests it on the small of her back. “It’s easy access.”

If looks could kill, he’ll be dead.

“I can offer you a shirt.” He says, tries to make her comfortable. 

“Please,” She whines, and he has to grin at that. He kisses her and stands up to walk over to his overnight bag, fishes out a shirt, he doesn’t have a new one left but an old one will do just fine. Besides, he likes her smelling like him, too. So, it’s kind of a win-win situation they got here.

He gets back to the bed, shirt in hand, guides her back between his legs and strips her off her gown, lets it fall to the floor. Bad idea, he thinks, because she’s standing there naked and he can’t help it. Is already half hard just by looking at her. 

“Maybe I have to mention that Cas didn’t bring you new underwear.”

“Of course he didn’t.” 

“I told him not to because I can’t stand the thought of him going through your panties and bras.” He adds, as he let her slip into his shirt. She’s flinching a little. 

Dean buttons up the shirt and pulls her forward, both hands on her hips. “You’re as beautiful as ever.” He says, purses his lips into a grin and there’s a small smile on her face, a hint of pink in her cheeks.

“Okay,” He says, “Now we should wear pants before I’m doing something I’m not supposed to.”

  
  


_____________________________

  
  
  


A flock of nurses were standing in front of her hospital room when Dean and Y/N walked out. It’s like they’ve been waiting to get a look at Dean. He is clearly the star here because since she woke up, there’s always someone coming to knock at their door and ask Dean if he needs anything when it’s her who’s recovering from an injury. She can’t blame them though. He’s really easy on the eye.

He holds all his things in one hand while he has one arm around her. He looks like he’s been struggling with the load and she told him that he can walk twice but apparently, Dean Winchester doesn’t take two trips.

  
  


*

  
  


Back at home, Cuddles is lying next to her on the bed while Dean takes his laptop to bed and works from there. He doesn’t say anything, and it seems like he doesn’t mind that Cuddles is in their bed, but she guesses it’s just a temporary thing he tolerates because she’s not fully recovered yet. Dean makes some calls too, keeping his voice low as not to be a big disruption, but she’s still too knocked out from pain meds to listen to it anyway. She tunes the voices out, strokes Cuddles until she falls asleep.

The next morning Dean wakes her up with coffee and a tray of breakfast. “You have to eat before taking those pills, sweetheart.” He says and sits down next to her, back leaning against the headboard. He watches her eat in silence but he has his phone in his hand and was thumbing and typing away on it.

She guesses it’s about that big thing and decides to bluntly ask him about it, “How’s work going? Is that big thing still on?”

He pauses from staring at his phone screen. “Yeah,” He looks at her then, “We’re figuring out details.”

“When is it?”

Dean grins, “You shouldn’t be thinking about it. It’ll hurt your pretty head.” And in another breath he says, “It’s still gonna be a couple of months, but we’re getting there.”

And then, it’s like a dam broke in him and he starts to tell her everything. She got to know more than she bargained for. He’s telling her about the whole operation, who’s involved, how they are doing it, how much money he's gonna be making. He asks her for her opinions, too. 

“Do you think it’ll work out?” 

She thinks, and it might have been a longer pause than she’d anticipated. She wants to help him, wants so much for him to be happy but she also wants to please Linda. Why can’t she have both?

“Have you thought about a decoy?” She asks him and he looks at her like she’s crazy. 

“What do you mean?”

“It’s just risky to me if you put everything on this operation, and it’s illusive to think that someone won’t interfere with it, is all.” She shrugs and sees Dean scratch at his scruff, which he has trimmed this morning, as if he thinks that there’s some truth behind her words.

“I need to make a call.” He then says, kisses the top of her head. “I’ll be right back.”

  
  


*

  
  


He draws her a bath later, carries her to the tub, undresses them both and helps her in before he follows her. He leans against the tub, lets her sit between his thighs and lean her head back onto his chest. She still has a plastic bandage on her chest and Dean’s careful not to get it wet.

“How are you feeling?” He asks as he sits there and lets her wash herself. She wanted it that way, feels a little weirded out at the thought that Dean has to wash her. 

She finishes and leans back, wonders if he’s not grossed out by stewing with her in her filth. “Good. Much better, actually. How long did they say that I had to rest?” 

“At least another week.”

“Ugh.”

Dean snorts, “Yeah. But I’m here along the way.”

They get out with him carrying her over the ledge because he’s too afraid of her slipping out and falling down. He gets into the showers with her, rinsing off the bathwater and she sees that he’s hard. 

“Do you need help with that?” She asks, a smirk on her face.

He raises an eyebrow. “Stop staring, I’m trying to be good.”

She shrugs. “I mean, I can.”

Dean lets out a frustrated groan and gets out to wrap himself into a towel before holding one out for her. 

  
  
  


***

  
  


Y/N’s been at home for four days now and is feeling significantly better. She could drop one of her pain killers, and Sergei is very happy with the healing of the wound. She’s now able to hold things in her right hand again, like her phone, or a pencil and she’s back to drawing, too.

She wants to call Linda, tell her what’s going on but she’s never had a minute to herself. Dean’s always present and as much as she likes that he’s been so attentive, she also needs space to breathe. So when he comes to the bedroom with Crowley on the other line and asks her if it was okay when he goes out for a meeting, she might be too enthusiastic with her reply that it was more than okay. The crease between his eyebrows grows but then she adds that he please bring back something from Bobby’s, his face lights up again, pleased that she has found her appetite. 

After Dean had left, she waited for another twenty minutes, just to be extra sure. 

Linda picks up at the second ring. “Y/N?”

“Yeah, it’s me.” 

“My god, I was worried. I haven’t heard anything for over a week! What happened? Are you alright? Is everything okay? Is this a hostage situation I have to get you out of?”

“Linda, first of all. Can you calm down? Your questions are hurting my head!”

“Sorry,” 

Y/N takes a deep breath before she begins to tell Linda about everything. Everything from the day she made the deal with Linda until the present day. And Linda listens for once, doesn’t interrupt her and her train of thought.

“Will you be able to hold your part of the deal?” Linda asks at last, after she spoke out her concern for Y/N’s wellbeing. 

“Yes.” 

“Okay, I have already started to set everything in place for the due date. You said it’s gonna be a couple of months, right?”

“Yeah.” 

“Good. I still have time to make final arrangements. I’ll text you further instructions and coordinates once it’s final.”

“Good.”

“Take care, Y/N. I love you.”

“I love you, too.”

She hangs up, throws her phone away and buries her face in her pillow. She tries not to cry, doesn’t want Dean to see that she’s been crying because he always knows when she did. It’s annoying really. 


	27. Chapter XXVII

As usual, Dean’s already up when she wakes. He’s been working mostly when she’s already asleep or before she wakes up so he can take care of her during the day. But that, she thinks, is no way to live. She feels the guilt nagging at her. Hates that he has to go out of his way and all of it only because she was too stupid and jumped into the line of fire. 

Well, he thinks that she saved his life and maybe she really did but she did it gladly, would probably do it again. It’s not like she wants to play a hero, it’s more that she’s grown up selfless and she really doesn’t know anything else than risking her life for others. Not really a great treat, probably.

Y/N gets up to use the bathroom. She decides to wash her face and brush her teeth. Still feels groggy from the last pain medication she had to take last night. From today on, she’ll be drug free. It’s the eighth day that she’s been home. Her wound has healed, it just needs tending to every day for it not to leave a nasty scar. She’s still not allowed to use her arm too much for the next week, though. 

“What are you doing?” He’s standing in their bedroom and leans his head against the door frame, arms crossed over his chest.

“Brushing my teeth and washing my face?” She replies a little annoyed. It came out exactly how she feels on the inside. And the guilt is back because she didn’t want to snap at Dean. She’s just frustrated with everything at the moment and he happens to be the only other person in here. The only person she can project her anger towards.

“I can see that, but why didn’t you tell me. What if you get up too fast and you black out and hit your head somewhere?”

“My god, Dean, I’m not a fucking toddler. I can get up and pee on my own!” She hisses, and storms out, Dean has to take a step to the side as not to be in her way. 

Y/N climbs back into bed, she’s still feeling too tired and she’s mad. Mad that this all happened to her. But mostly, she’s mad that she knows all she has with Dean will be over soon. And now she feels bad for being mad at Dean because he had her best interest at heart. 

Dean climbs back to bed with her, spoons her from behind. He’s still in a t-shirt and pj bottoms. “I’m sorry that you feel like I’m crushing you.” He whispers and it makes her feel even more guilty, if that’s even possible. He snuggles up against her, his big arms holding her tightly. “Do you want me to leave? I can go out for the day, leave you alone.”

She strokes his arm, feels his muscle underneath his skin. “Don’t you get tired of being holed up with me all the time?”

He chuckles against the side of her neck, buries his face deeper into the crook of her neck. “Nuh-uh.”

“You’re weird,” She mumbles, “I’m sorry you have to take care of me.”

“That’s alright. You kind of saved my life.” He then pulls at the collar of her sleep shirt, brings it down past her shoulder and spreads kisses along her exposed flesh. “In more ways than you think.”

Y/N smiles as he continues to nose behind her ear. She gets restless at that, feels her body heating up. Dean slips a hand underneath her shirt, fingertips skidding over the goosebumps on her belly until he cups one of her tits in his hand, fingers twisting at her nipple and she moans out softly. It has been way too long and she feels a sudden need to feel him. How could he behave for so long? She doesn’t know if she could have, if it was the other way around. 

She wriggles with her hips, pushing against him and feels his hard bulge poking at her ass. 

“Baby, you’re not back to health yet.” He says but his voice is strained. She knows that it takes everything in him to utter those words, his self control is hanging by a thread and she’s ready to take a scissor and cut through the thread.

“Please?” She whines, and she really needs it. Feels like she’s going to suffocate in her want if he doesn’t give in. 

Dean loosens his grip, lets her grind into him when he hears her whine. “You absolutely sure?”

“Uh-huh,” She nods and Dean’s hand that was on her tit travels down, hooking his fingers into the waistband of her panties to lower them. She helps him by desperately kicking it off her legs. 

“Fuck,” Dean mutters as his fingers find her clit and feels that she’s already wet. “Still getting wet pretty fast as always, huh?” 

She tilts her head up and to the side, finds him looking down at her and he kisses her, his tongue plays around in her mouth. It has been way too long since they kissed like this. Mainly because Dean’s afraid that if they start, he’ll have a hard time to stop and she’s still recovering. And he was kind of right because my god, his kisses are so good. She’s basically gasping for air when they part, his fingers are lazily rubbing at her clit. “Dean, please?”

“What do you want?” He asks as if he doesn’t know. And that’s the little shit speaking out of him because he knows exactly what she wants but he likes to hear her say it.

“Want your hard cock in my pussy, please? I’m wet enough I swear. I miss your dick stretching me out. Miss feeling your cum inside of me.” And she’s sometimes a little shit too, for giving him more than he bargained for.

“Jesus Christ, Y/N,” Dean let’s out some more profanities as his fingers leave her clit to pull down the waistband of his pj bottoms. Pj bottoms she once bought him because she thought they were cute. It has cats on it. “You really sure?” 

She hears him spit into his hand, wetting his cock, can feel him stroking his dick and lays it to her clit, he moves his hips, thrusting into the apex of her thighs, coating his lengths with her wetness.

It already feels good as it is but she wants more. 

“I’m sure.” 

Dean’s breathing picks up as he holds his cock and nudges against her entrance. She parts her thighs slightly for him for better access. “Just know, I’m not going hard, fast or dee— god dammit!” He pushes in and he’s breathing through his mouth. 

She moans at the intrusion. It has been way too long. It feels way too good. 

“Shit, I was gonna say deep. I’m not going deep.” Dean’s words are strained and he’s clearly gritting his teeth. “Christ, baby, did you get tighter?”

Dean spreads out his arm, so that she can lay her head on it, his other arm comes up around her, slipping underneath her shirt again and he kneads her tits while he fucks up into her at a slow pace. 

“Dean,” 

“Nuh-uh, don’t even try to persuade me.”

“Please,” 

“Baby, I can barely hold myself together as it is, I can’t fuck you harder.” He whispers, because he knows exactly what she wants him to do and he’s not wrong.

She lets out a whine and turns her head into his arm, takes in his scent, feels his soft skin. Dean Winchester has freckles all over. 

“You can rub me, please?” She whines again and wriggles her hips, trying to get him to fuck her deeper. 

He moves his hand that was kneading her tits lower, skids over her tummy, dibs into her belly button on the way down until he rubs at her with his long thick fingers and she moans out in pleasure. It’s the best feeling in the world. She’s missed this so much. 

“Dean, don’t stop, don’t stop, oh my god.” She closes her eyes, feeling the pressure building. 

“Will you come for me, baby? You feel so fucking good, I’m… fuck.” Dean groans loud and deep next to her ear.

Y/N comes as soon as she feels his warm cum coating her insides, bites into his arm, she couldn’t help herself. “Shit, I’m sorry,” She says as she looks at her bite mark. There’s red blood on the surface. The skin didn’t break, though. 

“That’s okay,” He mutters under his breath, laughs a little as he still thrusts in and out lazily until his dick goes soft. 

It’s a lot of cum, too, still seeping out around her hole, she can feel the sticky mess in between her thighs.

“I think I blacked out. Didn’t even feel you biting me.” He kisses her shoulder, “I’ve missed this. Missed how good you feel around me. But I’m also not gonna fuck you again today, don’t even try.”

She let out a sigh because that’s basically what she wants after she’s got a reminder of how good it feels.

“Not even if I pout?” She asks, and Dean laughs. 

“Not even then.”

  
  


_____________________________

  
  
  


Dean was true to his words. Didn’t fuck Y/N again that day but he got into the shower with her and ate her out on their bed after, made her come twice more. He just had to, couldn’t not because he’s been missing it too. 

He was being good for almost two weeks, let her see that their relationship does not involve around sex, and she knew that before already, of course she did. They have gone without sex for a couple of days already before that. Even made a bet once who could go longer without it. She lost her shit after four days and rode his dick that night like she’s a madwoman. He didn’t mind and was secretly happy that her walls crumbled down first because he was sure that his balls were slowly falling off with all the teasing that she made.

Things began to get back to normal pretty soon and Dean dared to go out to meetings more while she spends her day drawing, and if she’s not running errands, she goes for long walks. Walks that he sometimes joins too if he’s free. But more often than not, she’s going alone and does stupid things like a week ago.

_ He came home and as soon as he opened the door to the bedroom, she disappeared into the bathroom, locking the door behind herself. _

_ Dean was wondering why until he saw the evidence on their bed. Cuddles was there and there’s also another cat, a little one, probably maybe five months old if Dean had to guess. It was wrapped in a blanket while Cuddles was licking at it.  _

_ “Y/N! Why are you in there!” He shouted and walked to the bathroom, knocked on the door.  _

_ “I’m pooping!”  _

_ “No, you are not!” _

_ “I am!” _

_ “Why is there a cat on our bed?” _

_ “It’s Cuddles!” _

_ “No, it’s not!” _

_ She unlocked the door and walked out, her face flushed. “Okay, okay! I found it on the side of the road. It has probably lost its mother.” _

_ “We are not keeping it.” _

_ “Why not?” _

_ “Because we already have Cuddles!” He looked back to see Cuddles still licking away and rubbed his face on the new intruder. What a fucking traitor.  _

And that is the story, how they got another cat. 

On Dean’s walks with her, he’ll talk to her about Operation Freedom — a code name only they use. She’s been honest with her thoughts and ideas. He likes it much more than the bunch of ass kissing dickheads he employed. 

She suggested improvements to his way of distributing goods and after implementing them, his profits surged. He basically trusts her with business decisions too and that’s a good thing, ain’t it. 

It almost made him think that maybe she was made for this life better than he thought she would be. Made him think about being here with her, leading this organization until they have kids to take over. 

The thought always gets shattered when she’s standing naked before him and he gets a glimpse at her scar that’s almost healed. And then he sees all the scars on himself and he’s back at the thought he always had. The thought that how all this — is no way to live. It’s not a good life, it’s a dangerous one. It might be comfortable not having to worry about money, comfortable when people do what you tell them to, but it doesn’t make life more worthwhile. It’s all just a farce.

Nonetheless, since they still have a couple of months left before Operation Freedom, he thinks it can’t hurt if she knows how to handle a firearm. She’s probably never touched a gun in her life and he’s going to show her. Will get her one, just in case. He hopes that she’ll agree to let him teach her.

  
  


*

  
  


“We’re doing what?” She turns to ask him as he parks in the garage of the bunker.

“You heard me.”

“Why? I don’t think I need to carry a firearm.”

He gets out of the car, walks around to open the door for her. “You don’t have to. I just wanna see if you can handle weapons.”

She gets out of the car with a super stupid grin on her face. So stupid that Dean knows she’s plotting to say something unbelievably  _ not _ funny. 

“Baby, no.”

“Why baby, yes!” She’s laughing already, thinking she’s the funniest thing since sliced bread, and it’s almost stupid that he’s already laughing with her, even if he hasn’t heard what she’s saying yet. “Why do you say no even if you haven’t listened to what I wanted to say?”

“Because I know that look on your face. It’s gonna be something stupid.”

“It’s not!” She protests.

“Okay, fine!” He sighs, knows that he’s going to regret it, but he just can’t say no to her, “Go on, humor me.”

“I know how to handle  _ your _ weapon, isn’t that enough?” She’s doubling over laughing by now.

“Oh my god.” Dean groans and rolls his eyes and she takes the opportunity while he’s unprepared to palm his crotch, making him jump up.

_ This girl, seriously. _

  
  
  


*

  
  
  


“Have you ever had a gun in your hand?” Dean asks, and then he adds, “And, shush! I don’t mean  _ my  _ gun, alright? Focus!”

“Ah, then yes.” She says with a straight face but there’s still a glint of playfulness in her eyes. Dean’s ashamed to admit that the look alone makes him weak. She explained that her dad always used to teach her and it makes him wonder if there’s anything she can’t do.

He’s surprised at her answer, though. But holy shit she showed him, fired six rounds into the bullseye in quick succession without batting an eye. 

She’s a badass and he’s a little ashamed that watching her shoot a weapon turns him on very much. It’s not only the way she can handle a firearm. It’s also the way she holds it up, the little tongue peeking at the corner of her lips, the squinting of an eye, the smile when she sees that she hit the target.

“So, teacher, how did I do?” She asks, her face beaming. 

He pulls her closer by the collar of her shirt, kisses her. Couldn’t not do it. “A+.” He says when he parts and she sucks at his bottom lip that strangely works as some line that’s connected right to his cock.

“Did I win something?”

“Oh, baby, you always win something.” He kisses her again but pulls away before it gets too hot. “Let’s go home, I’m hungry.”

  
  
  


*

  
  
  


He couldn’t wait until they were inside, and had to push her against the elevator wall, making her hook her legs around his body. Dean steps out of the elevator like this, with her attached to him, and he proceeds to unlock the door, misses the lock twice because the way she sucks at his throat is quite fucking distracting.

Once inside, he sets her down and works on the button and zip of her jeans, pulling them down together with her panties. Today is a thong kinda day, apparently. 

He didn’t even manage to get the pants off her one leg, letting it hang there and crouches down, spreads his arms and tells her to hop on. His hands grip around the back of her thighs, lifts her upwards until he could lay her legs around his shoulders. She’s shrieking out, hands scrambling at his head, afraid to fall. 

Dean chuckles, manages to say, “Baby, I got you.” Before he buries his face in her cunt, his tongue working in circles on her clit and she’s still scratching at his head, blunt nails digging into his scalp. 

Standing up, he balances her on his shoulders, his hands on her back, holding her up while he walks inside, lips still attached to her pussy, sucking and lapping at her, the sound of her wet cunt is loud, her moans of pleasure echoes in the spacious apartment. Y/N’s soaked and it’s the best fucking thing. 

He lays her down on the dining table, thinks she's the best meal that’s ever been brought on that table and he grins before he leans over her, his hands on the back of her knees as he folds her in half. 

Licking a broad stripe through her center, she keens and moans below him. He gets up a little, looks at the pink of her cunt that glistens in the light of the dining room table. 

“So fucking beautiful,” He breathes out and it’s almost like his heart is bursting. “Cutest little pussy.” He growls before he drives in again, her pussy lips part as he pushes his nose through the wetness. 

The tip of his tongue tickles her clit, and he nibbles at it, making her grab and fist at his hair. He dives in more, pushes his tongue into her hole, fucks her there while his nose bumps against her clit and she’s so close because she’s clenching around his tongue. 

With every clench, she pushes more slick to the outside, he’s slurping it up, drinks it in. “Jesus, you’re so fucking delicious,” He manages to say, although his voice sounds broken, he has barely enough air to breathe. 

“Dean, I..fuck!” She writhes above him and her hand in his hair pulls him further in. By now she’s grinding her pussy against his face, searching for that friction that will push her over the edge and he let’s her. How could he not.

There’s a vibration in his pants pocket, but he lets it ring. Not going to make the mistake to interrupt her when she’s so close. 

“Oh my god,” There’s a noise, high and scratchy as she breaks apart above him and he trains his eyes up, watches her trembling jaw as she comes undone. 

Fucking beautiful sight. It’s been months and he never gets tired of seeing her come. Sometimes, when he’s really alone and she’s still at work, he pulls the image out of his memories, jerks himself off to it and he never needed a lot, comes instantly when he thinks of her. 

She really has no idea what effect she has on him.

“Shit,” She’s panting, pulls him up towards her by his hair and it hurts but he loves it.

He looks at her, their noses touch and he’s sure that she soils his dress shirt, it’s just that he can’t really bring himself to care. She brushes the wetness of his scruff, pulls him in for a kiss before she parts again, obviously needs more time to recover, and he chuckles at that. 

Y/N releases him, and he stands up straight, pulls her to the edge of the table as he gets his phone out of his pocket and thumbs at her oversensitive clit with his other hand. She whines a little at that. 

Dean calls Crowley back while she’s still lying on the table like a fucking feast. It needs everything in him not to just pull his cock out and drive it in but he talks on the phone like the professional he is. 

“Just finished eating.” He says into the phone with a stupid grin on his face, he sees her rolling her eyes, “Yeah, I’ll be there as soon as I can.” 

He hangs up, smacks her pussy with his hand, making her yelp up and he laughs. 

Dean helps and pulls her up one handed. “So, what do you think about a visit to Crowley’s strip club?”


	28. Chapter XXVIII

Y/N’s kind of excited. She’s never been to a strip club before. Not that she ever had the opportunity. So when Dean asked, she was too eager to say yes, which prompted him to look at her funnily. But she was always curious how the clubs look from the inside.

Dean walks in when she applies some mascara in the bathroom and he watches her through the mirror. In fact, she thought that he just wanted to get something from the cabinet but he’s been standing there watching for an awfully long time already. 

After another agonizing long stare, he grins and it kind of irritates her. “What?”

He chuckles, “Nothing. Just… do you really wanna wear a mini skirt?”

She looks down at herself, sees nothing wrong in wearing a mini skirt. She’s wearing a blouse too? It’s not like she wears the glittery tube top. “What’s wrong with what I’m wearing?”

Dean opens the cabinet, and takes out his cologne, sprays some pumps onto his shirt and places it back before he looks down at her, turns her around so she’s facing him and his hands are on her waist. And that’s not fair because apart from looking good, he now smells delicious, too. 

He pushes his fingers underneath her chin, making her look up at him. “It’s just… we’re going to a strip club. You don’t actually have to strip there, you know?”

She laughs a hearty laugh. “Are you jealous that they will take me for a stripper there? You really think so?”

He kisses her forehead and smacks her ass one time before he walks to the door and turns around, leans his head against the door frame and looks at her from that distance. “I know so.”

“Fine, I’ll change into pants.” She says, rolling her eyes.

“No, that’s fine. I’ll just have to make sure you’ll never leave my side.” He winks with that cocky grin and she hates that. Hates that cocky Dean does in fact, turn her on when it shouldn’t.

And then there’s the doubt again, the doubt that she sometimes has when Dean’s being particularly good to her. She does not deserve him. Why did he choose her when he could have anyone else? 

  
  


*

  
  
  


They walk up to the apparent club but there’s nothing than a black door against a black wall. There’s someone standing on the outside, dressed in a black suit with black sunglasses. 

“Who wears sunglasses at night?” She asks Dean as they walk closer. 

“Douchebags and crazy people,” Dean mutters under his breath, she hopes that douchebag didn’t hear him because she thinks that it could get uncomfortable if he did.

Apart from the douchebag standing there and protecting what seems like  _ nothing _ , no one would think that it was a strip club. There’s no line, no group of smoking men outside, no music coming out, nothing that suggests anything’s hidden behind that black wall.

“You sure it’s here?” She asks and Dean squeezes her hand.

“Trust me.”

They approach the douchebag who holds his hand out to stop them. “No girls allowed.”

“She’s with me.” Dean says calmly.

The douchebag eyes her up and down before he presses his hand to his ear and turns around to mumble something into his wrist.

“Okay,” The bouncer turns back and opens the door for them. 

They’re in a black corridor, lit up by a line of LED lights on the ground and ceiling and Dean pulls her along until they stand in front of another door. There, Dean knocks four times. 

The door opens and it feels like she’s sucked into another world. Dean tightens his grip around her and pulls her with him. “Here we go,”

They walk past the first floor and she’s pulling at Dean’s hand to stop walking so fast because she wants to see. 

There are some girls dancing on stage, snaking their way around a pole. Some men have girls on their laps. She can spot a table where a blindfolded girl is lying and she let someone pour champagne over her naked body. Two thirsty men lick everything up and more, and she has the impression that the girl kind of enjoys it.

“You done looking?” Dean asked with an amusement tone in his voice.

“Wow.” She breathes out. “I thought it was only stripping.”

Dean chuckles, “Sweetheart, it’s Crowley’s club. What did you expect?”

And that’s true. Well, she didn’t know what she expected but it’s certainly not people having oral sex in the middle of a club.

“Not this!” She gestures widely with her hands and Dean can’t help but laugh out loud.

“Come on,” He says when he finds his breath back, “I wanna get this over with so that we can go home and finish what we started.”

“What did we start?” She asks like she didn’t remember that he ate her out just an hour before.

He’s only rolling his eyes, looks at her grumpily and pulling her along with him up the stairs, and she whispers to him, “You’ve been here a lot?”

Dean’s eyes stay focused, straight forward, not stealing glances left and right like she does. “Not more than I really have to be.”

She wonders if he’s been given a lap dance too. He must have had one. Or maybe even more than just a dance? She abandons the image that flashes up in her mind because the thought makes her nauseous.

He stops at another black door, places his hand on a scanner on the door’s right side. It beeps, a light flashes green, and the door opens.

She feels the humidity first, the heat comes after. It hits her like a brick wall.

Dean smiles when he sees her cheeks beginning to flare up.

They step through, the door closes by itself.

There’s a freaking pool in the room which is lit up in lilac. So, that’s where Dean’s been every time he came home smelling like chlorine. Now she knows and she isn’t sure if that makes her feel better.

He leads her deeper into the room with his hand steady on the small of her back up until they’re standing at a group of big bulky chairs. 

“I’ll be right there!” Crowley shouts out and that’s when she sees the short man diving down in the water.

“I thought they were waiting for us? Seems like Crowley’s not even done splashing around.” She asks Dean and he just rolls his eyes. Obviously, this happens more often than not.

Dean takes off his suit jacket, rolls up his sleeves and unbuttons the first two buttons of his shirt before he sits down in a chair with a clear view to the pool and then he pats his lap while looking at her. “Come on,”

Y/N looks at him, completely baffled by the gesture. The crease between her eyes grows. “Why do I have to sit in your lap when there are chairs?”

“Come on,” Dean pokes at her tummy with his index finger, “If you don’t, someone else will and I’d like to avoid that.” 

When she still doesn’t budge, he takes her wrist and pulls her into his lap. She’s sitting on one of his thighs, both her legs in between his spread legs. 

“What do you mean someone else will?” 

Dean sneaks an arm around her, pulls her body to his chest. “It’s a strip club,” He shrugs like it’s the most normal thing. “Someone will always find a way on my lap.”

“Ah, so, someone… even Crowley?”

Dean throws his head back, laughing so loud at the image she plants in his head that her whole body shakes with him. 

When he catches his breath again he says, “No, but other girls.”

She looks around, some of them are even naked! She feels uneasy thinking about Dean with his lap full of a naked girl, but she doesn’t want to be that kind of girlfriend.

“Do you like it if they do?”

“Well,” Dean thinks for a short moment, “It depends. I have this agreement with some of the girls that they can sit but they’re not allowed to move or touch.”

“And you are allowed to touch?”

“I am, but I don’t.” It came out without even thinking. He doesn’t even have to fish in his brain for excuses. It baffles her.

“Did any of them turn you on?” She couldn’t not ask but she didn't really want to hear the answer.

He chuckles, pulls her closer, and wraps his arm around her middle. She’s almost on top of his crotch and he lays his chin on her shoulder, whispers to her. “You wanna know the truth?”

Not really, but she nods anyway.

Dean breathes out a smile, the air hits her ear, sends shivers up her spine. “Yeah, there were some who I thought were pretty.”

She bites her lips, doesn’t say anything. 

He noses at the back of her ear now. “But that’s about it. And then, I think that I would be a fucking idiot if I would risk everything I have for a stripper when I have a beautiful girl at home. Someone who’s probably sitting in the tub right now, naked and wet. A perfect girl, who wants me to choke and spank her. Who wants me to fuck her fast, hard and deep because she likes it when it hurts a little. Someone who also likes it when I fuck her soft and slow. I call that love making but she thinks it’s cheesy. An amazing girl who blushes so sweet, her cheeks are as pink as her pussy. And then, what usually happens is that I would get half hard and the girl on my lap will think it’s because of her.”

“Like now?” She couldn’t miss his bulge if she tried.

Dean rearranges her, so she’s sitting right on top and she’s facing the pool, sees Crowley getting out. “No, now it’s definitely because of the girl in my lap.” Dean says, his big hands help her grind on it.

“Aaaand that’s enough. I need to talk business.” Dean laughs before he puts her back on his thigh and kisses her pout. “Stop that.”

“Look who we have here!” Crowley is cheery as always. “Are you doing better, darling?”

Y/N smiles, “Yes, thank you.” 

“Good. I hope Winchester here treats you well. If not, you know where to find me.” Crowley winks and sits down, his thighs peeking out from under the robe. She’s trying not to look.

“Hey!” Dean growls jokingly.

“Yeah, yeah.” Crowley says and the guys start to talk when a waitress brings them drinks and asks her what she wants to drink. She opts for something light, something that doesn’t make her feel any hotter than she already is.

While they talk, she just listens with one ear while her eyes scan the room. She almost gasps aloud when she sees her. There she is. Meg. In a freaking unicorn bikini!

Meg sees her too, purses her lips and turns her head away, tending to a man on a lounger chair.

Ugh. Meg and her were never the greatest of friends after all. It’s a good thing that they both have something to lose if one of them should expose the other.

  
  
  
  


*

  
  
  


Later in the evening they began to talk about their decoy plan and this time, she listens closely. 

It’s when Crowley suddenly asks about her thoughts that she speaks up, “If you’re willing to go that far with the trucks anyway, with the different banner of companies, I’d say that you might as well load everything onto them.”

“So, abandon the idea of rail completely?” Crowley asks.

“Well, keep it. But with empty wagons. A lot of people know about that already don’t they? Just keep the things with the decoy under wraps so if someone should talk, the authority would go for the rail.”

“Huh,” Crowley leans back, takes a sip of his drink and lets her words sink in.

“And everything should be at almost the same time so there won’t be enough people on the highways out of the city.” She adds and shrugs.

Crowley laughs, points his finger at Y/N, “I like her.”

Dean’s grinning too, wraps his arm around her middle and pulls her back to his chest, she almost spills her drink. “Thanks, I’m quite fond of her myself.”

“Three months. We have three months!” Crowley gets up, and unwraps his robe. “You guys want anything? Huh? More drinks? A girl? Private room?”

She cringes her nose, already wants to deny when Dean jumps in. “Actually, you know what? A private room sounds super good.”

  
  
  


*

  
  
  


The room is lit up by lilac lights, there’s a pole in the middle and one big comfy leather chair. The wall in the back is completely mirrored. Music is playing in the background.

“What are we doing here?” Y/N hisses at Dean.

He sits down, makes himself comfortable. “Duh, we’re in a strip club.” Then he points at her with his index finger, makes a little twisting motion. “Strip.”

She laughs out loud.

When she composes herself, she looks back at Dean who just shrugs and raises an eyebrow at her.

“Oh, come on! I can’t even dance, Dean!”

“Just try,” Dean says, “For me? Please?”

She buries her face in her hands. “Oh my god. I can’t believe you are making me do this.”

“Hey, you can stop anytime. Just try it. I wanna watch. I’m super excited by the way.” He leans back and just fucking grins like he owns the world.

“Ugh.. okay.” She walks to the pole, touches the cold metal, lets her hand get used to it.

She has both her hands on the pole now, rubs it up and down, pushes her hips up against it before she looks over to Dean. He’s still smiling stupidly. 

“How am I doing?” As soon as she says it, she slips down the pole, almost lands on her ass and Dean lets out a hearty laugh. 

“Yeah, uh, let’s just say that you won’t get a lot of tips.” 

She rolls her eyes but tries to do something acrobatic again. “This is stupid, Dean.” She’s laughing too, it starts to be more fun but she’s so clumsy.

“You’re doing fine. Go on.”

She rolls her eyes and he shouts, “Less eye rolling and more hip rolling, sweetheart.”

Y/N lifts her leg to the pole, half straddling it and then she leans back, arches her back. 

“That’s good.” Dean hums his approval.

She steps in front of the pole now, her legs spread, her hands behind her back as she crouches down slowly with spread legs, her skirt rides up to her hips and her panties are showing. 

Dean licks his lips and it’s her turn to smile. She continues on all fours, crawls towards Dean and he goes from licking to biting his lips as she reaches him.

Placing her hands on both his knees, she pulls herself up, her face traces along his crotch, up his body to his face. Leaning in a little, she pretends to go in for a kiss and when Dean cranes his neck, she grins and turns around. 

Her skirt is still ridden up, her ass is on full display because she wears a lace thong. 

She places both her hands on Dean knees and starts to lower herself, grinds and rolls her ass in his lap. She can see through the mirror that he’s staring at her ass. Every now and then, she would brush it against his crotch and feel him hard in his pants. It makes her feel triumphant. Feels good that she can make him hard with a stupid lap dance she’s not even good at.

He touches her ass, lets his finger tips dig into her flesh, kneads them roughly before he spanks her. 

“Hhm,” She hums, grinds down on him more.

His fingers find her pussy, strokes it through her thong. She’s awfully wet. It turns her on more than she thought it would. More than she would ever admit.

Dean’s fingers leave her pussy, and she whines. 

“Shhh, I got you, baby.” He whispers and she hears his belt and zipper.

There’s shuffling and the leather creaks loudly.

“Come on, back up.” His voice is deep and low as he hooks his finger into the crotch of her thong, pulls it aside.

She still has her hands braced on his knees when she lowers herself, bites down on her lips when she feels his cockhead breaching her pussy. She’s pretty wet but it’s without prep, which normally burns a little more but she welcomes it nonetheless.

“You okay?” Dean asks as he’s halfway in and they both are breathing hard.

“Yeah,” She sits down further, taking him in slowly. Inch by glorious inch.

“You’re doing so good, sweetheart. Taking my cock so well. Jesus, you feel so fucking perfect.” His hands knead at her ass as he watches the last inch disappear inside of her.

“Fuck,” She breathes out, as she feel him bottom out. “Oh, fuck.”

“Christ,” Through the mirror, she sees Dean biting down on his lips.

Slowly, she begins to move, bounces her ass on his cock between his spread legs. Grinds on him in between all the bouncing. And oh god, he’s so deep. 

“That’s if, baby. Dance. Dance for me.” Dean whispers, his hands spanks her ass and then he rests them on her cheeks, helping her dance around on his cock. “Fucking amazing.”

Dean can’t resist for long, comes deep inside her and pulls her up a little by her hips so that she can lean her back on his chest. Up until her head rests on his shoulders and he rides out his orgasm while he tilts her head to the side to kiss her deep and demanding. 

“Fuck,” He mumbles when he breaks the kiss. “‘M sorry. I meant to wait but you were so incredibly sexy.”

She laughs, lets him touch her all over, his hands are restless, kneading and stroking her everywhere. “That’s okay. It was for your pleasure. And it’s not like you haven’t given me a mind blowing orgasm already this evening.” Y/N can’t help but to blush a little when she thinks back to him eating her out on the dining table.

“Yeah,” Dean chuckles. “Never gonna have a meal there and not think about your sweet pussy ever again.”

His soft dick slips out of her, making both of them flinch. He smiles before pecking her nose. “I love you.”

Her heart races. It’s the second time he ever said it. They don’t throw the word around and that’s why it’s such a surprise to her not to mention super exciting. 

_ Why?  _ She wants to ask.  _ Why do you love me when I can’t even love myself? I’m the worst and you love me. You wouldn’t if you only knew. _

But instead she says, “I love you too.” 

She smiles back, kisses him and nibbles at his bottom lip and he tightens his arms around her waist.

“Sometimes,” Dean whispers, “I love you so much that it physically pains me. It’s not necessarily the love that pains me but more the fear of losing you.” 

She swallows hard. 

“Sam once said that I’m not terrified of falling in love or being happy, for that matter. But he said that I’m terrified that it could be taken away from me.” Dean pauses to let her sit back onto his lap more comfortably and then he puts his spent dick back into his pants, pulls it up and zips up. “And I realized that it’s true. Sam’s right. I never told you but the day where you were shot, I prayed for the first time in years.” 

Her eyes well up and she doesn’t know where to look anymore. She doesn’t want him to see her tears, actually didn’t want to hear all of this, because it makes it all so much harder.

She kisses him then, shuts him up and hides her tears at the same time. She hopes it’s enough, knowing that it isn’t. 

After a while Dean nudges her cheek. “Come on, let’s go back to the cats.”

She grins at that, gets up and pulls her skirt down. She’s already leaking his cum. “They have names, Dean.”

“They don’t if I have a say in this.” He says and buckles his belt. 

“I’m not going home unless you say their names.”

Dean rolls his eyes. “Fine. Let’s go home to Cuddles and Bubbles. There, you happy now?”

Y/N grins wide. “Yeah.” 

He opens the door, lets her slip out first, takes her hand and holds a tight grip on her while they walk to the front. “How did you like the strip club?”

“Not gonna lie, I kinda like it. You?”

He chuckles, and wraps his free hand around her waist, pulls her closer as they walk along, “Yeah. This club is awesome. I had sex with a stripper tonight!”


	29. Chapter XXIX

They’re having a slow week where nothing much is happening and Dean didn’t need to go away as often as he did the week before in preparation of Operation Freedom. 

Ash’s working with the new guy Chuck, and Ash’s actually doing the majority of work since Chuck is kind of a weirdo. Dean just hopes that Ash will be able to pull it all off. Crowley’s plotting with his men and pulling his strings to get CEO’s on board as not to raise too much suspicion around the trucks and so far, it’s looking incredibly good. 

Y/N comes back from her art class, her hands full and a backpack almost as big as herself. Dean just finished preparing food when he sees her, rushes in to help. “Jesus, why didn’t you call me when you got out of the car. I could have come help. You're still not back to your full health!”

She laughs, drops both her bags at the entrance and takes off her backpack, “Relax, I’m good, I would have called when I knew I couldn’t manage. But I already walked a block to my car like that, I’m okay, don’t worry.”

“I’m sorry, have you met me?” He growls, but bends down to kiss her, his hand on her waist.

“I know, I’m sorry.” 

“That’s okay, food’s almost ready.” 

“I’m just gonna take a quick shower, alright?” 

Dean already picks up her bags and backpack, “The fuck do you have in there? A dead body?” 

She laughs as Dean walks to her art room, drops the bags all in there and goes around his task on setting the table. 

Y/N walks out when food’s ready and he places the dish into her plate. Chicken linguine with a side of greenery. He doesn’t like the greens but she does, so he kind of puts more of it on her plate, hoping she doesn’t notice.

Of course she does, grins like an idiot to which Dean only shrugs. 

They eat while she talks about her day, it’s rare that he’s the one staying at home and she goes out to face the world. There’s a teacher, Mr. Walker, who’s apparently a dick to her, but she said that Dean shouldn’t be worried because she’s been a dick to him too. So there’s that. 

The people in her class are mostly younger but apparently she gets along with the girls. They even invited her to go out partying with them and even Dean urged her to go but she doesn’t. Dean has met the girls before. Sees the bunch of them sometimes when he picks her up. When they see him, they always start to blush and giggle. 

“So,” She says, stabbing around in her food with her fork. “I went to have lunch with the girls.”

“And?” Dean swallows the chicken.

“Well, they talk a lot.”

Dean lets out a chuckle, “I can imagine.”

“And I’ve been thinking, you know, what would you say if I call you daddy?”

Dean almost drops the wine glass onto the table, the little wine he has left in his mouth went down the wrong pipe and he’s having a coughing fit. 

She grins, all cocky and he hates that.

“What?”

“I mean, in bed, obviously.”

“Well, I know what you mean but why that word?” He can’t tell her that it turns him on. Already imagines her below him, begging for him with her sweet voice, hears it in his mind.  _ Daddy, please. _

“I don’t know. The girls talked about it and I was curious. It’s new and like, we’re trying new things too sometimes, and you want me to be honest with you and tell you what I want, and I was wondering if that would be something you’d like to explore? With me?”

“Jesus,” Dean empties his glass and walks around, scoops her up from her seat and she laughs, drops the fork into her plate with a loud clatter. 

“Now?” She shrieks out.

“Duh,” He’s already halfway through the bedroom door. He had thought about pushing the plates away and taking her there but he’s not in the mood to clean up the mess after. “You can’t drop that word and then not want me to act it out now.” 

That’s true, his dick went from soft to hard in seconds while she still tried to explain why she wanted to use the word.

He drops her on the bed, pulls at her sweat pants and she helps him, taking off her shirt while he pulls at her underwear. She leans back as Dean’s trying to get rid of his own clothing and he takes a break to look at her. What a fucking beautiful sight. She’s spread on the bed, blushing a little but she grins and says, “Daddy, I’m ready.” 

  
  


_____________________________

  
  
  
  


It’s a week later when Y/N’s on the couch, tending to Bubbles while Dean scrubs down the couch. Bubbles has had trouble digesting and food that’s going in, doesn’t really stay in. So she’s on the couch, comforting bubbles, wraps the cat up in a fluffy blanket and strokes the cat’s head.

“Bubbles is your cat, why am I doing this again?” Dean groans, walks back to the trash can and gets another roll of paper towels from the pantry.

“Do you wanna trade places?” She asks him, knowing that Dean is really not the cuddly type. Not with cats. It’s a whole different story with her, though. 

“She wouldn’t want to be in my arms anyway,” Dean mumbles, proceeds to spray some cleaning spray on the leather sofa. 

That’s true. Bubbles doesn’t like Dean that much. Y/N thinks it’s something psychological. Maybe Bubbles had been mistreated by big grumpy men. 

They called the vet but he said that they should wait another night to see if Bubbles might get better on its own. So far, no luck.

“‘Kay,” Dean says, stands up and walks over to the kitchen, drops things into the trash. “I need to take a shower and I’ll be out. Will you guys be okay?” 

He’s standing at the back of the couch, hovering above her now and she looks up, sees him upside down in her vision. “Are you asking me or the cats?”

“Both,” He says, leans down and kisses her forehead. “If you want, I can stay.” 

She laughs, “You’re only saying it because you don’t wanna go.”

Dean lowers himself on his knees, braces his arms on the sofa next to her head. “I really don’t wanna.”

“You’ll be fine.”

“Come with me. I’ll call Cas to take care of the cats.” 

The thought of Cas taking care of cats while he sneezes is indeed a funny image, but no, she’s not leaving Bubbles alone. What if something happens. “You’re a big grumpy boy that everyone fears. It’s not your first social gathering, Dean.”

He’s been invited to another social function by Crowley and she was invited too, but since Bubbles’ not feeling well, she decided to stay home. 

“No,” He says, “But it’s the first one in weeks without you. Who will I finger under the table? Who can I escape to the bathroom to have a quickie with?” Dean drops his head and she threads her hand through his hair, leaning her forehead against his scruff. 

“Awe, poor you. I’m sure you’ll find someone. Just, refrain from fingering Crowley, please.”

Dean chuckles, looks up and kisses her temple before he pushes himself up completely. “I can’t promise that.”

  
  
  


*

  
  
  


Dean finishes showering and comes out of the bedroom looking like a full course meal which, in retrospect, makes her regret not going with him. 

“That’s not fair,” She lays Bubbles down on the sofa and walks over, she’s still dressed in her sleep shirt and underwear, it’s been a long night and after showering she just slipped the shirt back on. They didn’t do anything other than lounging around today anyway.

He’s standing there, perplexed and then proceeds to crouch down to lace up his shoes. Getting back up again he raises an eyebrow. “What’s not fair?”

She fists his suit jacket and looks up at him while he strokes her arm. “That you look so yummy and I have to stay here.”

“Yummy?” He laughs.

“Like a meal, I could eat you alive.”

Dean turns her around, pushes her against the wall, their noses touch and she grabs his biceps. They’re hard and firm under his suit jacket. His hands roam around, touch her thighs, her ass. “It’s not fucking fair to me either. You always look yummy in my shirt.”

He kisses her then while his hands knead her flesh. My god, she forgets how quick it can build up between them. She’s wet already and he knows because he’s rubbing her through her panties. 

“Fuck, come on,” Dean parts from her, crouches down and pulls her underwear down. “Just a taste before I have to go.” 

“Dean, no.” 

“Dean, yes.” He grins, all bravado and fucking cocky and how can she say no to that?

He noses at her folds, his hands on her thighs, spreading them wider before throwing one leg over his shoulder. And there it is, his talented tongue that can tickle and push at all the right buttons at the right time. One of his hands comes up, slips underneath her shirt and toys with her tits, squeezing and kneading, twisting her nipples, making her arch her back and push her pussy against his face. Her hands found his head, and she tries, really tries not to make a mess of his hair but she just can’t hold herself back. 

“Shit, Dean, yeah right there, right there, don’t stop,” She’s panting by now, can let herself fall so easily when she’s with him. 

He takes it as a clue, sucks and nibbles harder and he pulls him closer, grinding herself on his face as he pushes her over the edge. 

Dean’s still licking at her lazily, slurps up her cum before he places one last soft kiss on the hood of her clit and stands up. He kisses her after, letting her taste herself on his tongue. 

“You always come so quick, it baffles me every time.” 

“Only because it’s you.” She smiles and her hands go down, palms his dick through his pants, realizes that it’s hard. 

“Baby, I really need to go.” He whines, but it’s not like he wants to go at all.

“How long til you really have to leave?” She asks, still stroking at him through the thin fabric and his breathing picks up. 

“I should have left ten minutes ago.”

“Good, what’s a couple of minutes more, right?” She shrugs and winks before she lowers herself, her hands working on his belt buckle. 

“Baby,” Dean tries to say but didn’t get any further, it’s like he’s given up on being the reasonable one around here. Instead, he bites on his lips and watches her pull down his zipper and pushes his pants past his knees.

Y/N places open mouthed kisses on his bulge through his underwear, makes him groan out and closes his eyes briefly. She hooks her fingers into his underwear, pulling them down, making his hard cock spring free, and it almost hits her cheeks in the process and she grins, her mouth is watering at the sight.

She pushes his underwear past his knees too, looks up again and places a kiss on the tip of his cock. It’s already leaking. Then, she holds his hard dick in her hand, pushes it out of the way to lick and suck at his balls. Dean braces one hand on the wall. 

Coming up again, she holds his cock firm in her hands now. It’s hot and heavy in her grip. She wraps her mouth around the tip, hollows out her mouth to suck while she goes deeper, and she strokes the rest of him in the same motion her face makes. 

“Look up, baby, look at me.” His breathing is heavy and she can sense that he’s holding himself back from fucking her face. She doesn’t know why because she wouldn’t mind and she told him that already but still, he wouldn’t do it. 

“So fucking pretty.” Dean growls above her. 

Y/N lets herself come up for air, strokes his now wet dick when she looks up at him. “I want you to help me get it deeper, Dean.” 

“No.” It comes out too quick, he doesn’t even need to think about it.

“Please?” She begs, it comes out whiny, she doesn’t care. “You don’t have to fuck my face, just help me get it deeper.”

“God dammit,” Dean curses but places the hand that’s not bracing himself on the wall on the back of her head, “Ok, but tap out, alright?” 

She nods as she opens her mouth to take him in, braces her hand on both his thighs. 

“Look at me.”

She does, at least at the beginning. When she can’t take him any further, Dean’s pulling her closer by the back of her head. 

“Open up a little more,” He says and she tries, stretching out her mouth as far as it can go. 

“That’s good, now, try to relax your throat, stick your tongue out a little too.” 

It’s hard to do it, she gags a little but it’s still tolerable. 

Dean’s hand pulls her in, and she flinches as his cock goes deeper.

“Jesus,” His voice sounds strained. “More?”

She looks up at him with a look that says so much as  _ How the fuck can I answer you? _

“You didn’t tap so I take it as a  _ yes _ . Hard to talk with your mouth full of my cock, isn’t it?” He’s grinning at his own comment, “Breathe baby, don’t forget to breathe. My god, you looks so fucking good. Such a good girl.” 

He applies more pressure at the back of her head, making her take him a little more and it goes in until she feels him at the back of her throat, a place he’s never been before and there’s the gagging and she feels like she’s running out of air. 

Dean let’s go of her head, lets her come up and there’s a string of thick saliva that attaches her mouth to the tip of his dick. She massages it in, strokes him with both her hands as she looks up at him with teary eyes and a smile on her face. 

“Keep on stroking, baby.” He says and she knows by the way he’s panting and the way his dick twitches slightly in her grip, that he’s close. “Open that mouth of yours, show me your tongue.”

Y/N does, rests the tip of his cock on her tongue and strokes the rest of him. 

“Christ,” Dean breathes in, holding his breath as he comes. It’s warm and it feels heavy on her tongue. “Look at me, stick that tongue out.” He thumbs at her tongue, whispers “Beautiful,” before he pushes his cum to the back of her mouth with that thumb and she seals her lips around it, swallowing his cum in the process. 

She smiles after, licking and sucking at his spent cock, cleans him up so he would be ready to go before she brushes at her own mouth with the back of her hand. 

Dean pulls his underwear and pants back up, dresses himself properly again and she stands up. He kisses her then, tasting himself on her, which makes him moan out. “You’re unbelievable.” 

“You too.” 

“How do I look?” He asks, and there’s a perfect mirror next to them but he doesn’t even want to look in there, would believe everything she says. 

Her hands go up to his hair, brushes some strands and lays them down perfectly in place. “You look great.”

“So do you,” He smiles, steals a kiss before he walks to the door. “Will you be awake when I get back?”

“I can try.”

“Try harder. Okay, be good.”

“Always.”

  
  
  


*

  
  
  


After she showered off the stickiness and laid herself back on the couch to look after Bubbles, her phone vibrates. It’s a text from an unknown number.

_ AK: Hi, I’m Ketch. I got your number from Linda. Can I call you?  _

She rolls her eyes at that. 

_ Y/N: It’s not a good time to talk. _

She lies. Mostly because she’s not in the mood to talk to that guy.

_ AK: No problem. Can we meet? I’m in town. Tomorrow 2PM at the café on the 7th Street okay for you? _

How can someone be so blunt?

_ Y/N: I’m being watched. I don’t think I can come up with something to meet you. _

_ AK: I’m your cousin from England. Just a little talk. See how things are going. Catching up. No strings attached.  _

_ Y/N: Did Linda set you up with this? _

_ AK: She didn’t. I’m just bored since we can’t get me into it, so I might as well listen to you talk about it. It doesn’t have to be long. An hour? Please? _

_ Y/N: Fine. Don’t contact me again. I’m deleting and blocking your number. _

_ AK: Deal. _

She does. Deletes the conversation and blocks his number. How dare Linda. She’s gonna hear from Y/N for sure.

  
  
  


_____________________________

  
  
  
  


Dean gets into the apartment quietly. He slips out of his shoes, walks in on socked feet and sees the screen on the TV asking if the viewer is still watching. Apparently, she is not. 

He walks closer, peeks over the edge of the sofa to find Y/N curled up on her side, the blanket with Bubbles next to her and she has a protective arm around the fur baby. Cuddles is lying at her feet. The older cat sees Dean, acknowledges him, but doesn’t really pay Dean any attention like he always does. Cuddle’s probably worried about his new friend and his mommy. Because that’s it. She’s Cuddles mommy now and Dean thinks that the cat accepts her better than he ever did accept him. For all Dean knows, Cuddles just tolerates Dean because Dean is mommy’s friend. Even though Dean’s been here first.

For reasons unknown to him, she gave the new cat its new name and Dean couldn’t even say anything, even though Bubbles wouldn’t have been his first choice. If it would have ever been his choice at all. Yeah, no, it definitely wouldn’t. 

He goes into the bedroom, showers off the night and slips into his favorite pj pants. He now has several of them. All courtesy to her. His favorite though, is still the first one she bought him. It has ugly cats on it and Dean first said that he wouldn’t wear them but here he is. 

Walking out, he goes to the fridge and empties a bottle of water. He didn’t drink that much but he’s better safe than sorry. That’s also a thing from the past. The need for him to drink has declined significantly since she’s living with him. He doesn’t miss it at all. 

Dean walks over to the sofa after, scoops her up in his arms and walks her over to their bedroom. She wakes up, “Whatchu doin’?”

He couldn’t help but chuckle. “Getting you to bed.”

“But Bubbles,”

“Don’t worry, I’ll get her next.”

“And Cuddles,”

“He can join too.”

“Good,” She says and is almost slipping away already.

Dean makes his rounds, picks up the two cats and places them on the bed next to her and climbs in on the other side, spooning her from behind and breathes in her scent from the crook of her neck. 

She turns around a little and Dean lays his head on her chest, it’s her left side, her right one still hurts sometimes. 

“How was it?” She whispers, but her voice is full of sleep. 

“Boring,” 

“You fingered anyone?” 

“I sat between Crowley and Cas.”

“Ah, poor you.”

“Yeah,”

“Good night, Dean.” It’s barely a whisper.

“Night, baby.” 

He lies there, listening.

It’s a faint thud. A beat that slows down with every breath she takes. 

_ Sometimes _ , Dean thinks, _ sometimes, home has a heartbeat. _


	30. Chapter XXX

Y/N’s awake before him, Cuddles is already gone but Bubbles’ still lying next to her. She takes the little cat and walks out, closing the door behind her. She feeds Cuddles, sits down with Bubbles to see if the little baby would eat and the cat does, which is a relief, really. While she waits to see if Bubbles will throw up again, she turns on the coffee maker. The noise makes the three of them jump. 

When she sees that Bubbles can hold her food in, she makes coffee, takes the mugs into the bedroom and climbs to bed with Dean, she places the mug on her bedside table and begins to nudge at his face, rubs her nose along his scruff. It’s scratchy but soft, just the way she likes it. She then kisses his jaw, the corner of his lips, his cheek, his nose. 

“It’s too early,” Dean mumbles, his eyes are still closed.

“It’s not.”

“Ah, it’s not because you say it’s not.” He turns and buries his face into his pillow. 

“Exactly,” She kisses along the skin that is visible, his ear, the nape of his neck. “And I made you coffee.”

Dean tilts his head up, opens up his one eye, it’s a little red rimmed from sleep. “What did you do?”

“What?”

“Or what do you want?”

“I’m offended. Just because I made you coffee doesn’t mean that I did something stupid or want something?”

“Yeah, it does.” Dean chuckles before reaching his hand out to grab her and pull her to him. “What is it?”

It’s her turn to bury her face into the pillow and she mumbles. “I have to go meet my cousin today.” 

“You have a cousin?” 

_Well, how can she say that she didn’t know about it until last night either?_

“Yeah, my aunt makes me go meet him. He came over from England and is in town for a short while.” She lies, hopes Dean buys it. 

“When are you meeting him?” He kisses the nape of her neck, his scruff scratches at her skin. She welcomes the burn. 

“This afternoon in a café. Just thought you should know so as not to be mad at me again.”

Dean chuckles and manhandles her around so she’s lying on top of him. “Baby, I’m never mad at you.”

“Annoyed.”

“Yeah, I’ve been annoyed.” And then he pauses before he adds, “This afternoon, huh? I don’t have anything scheduled. Why don’t I come with you?”

She honestly doesn’t know what to say to that. How can she say that she doesn’t want him around? That Ketch could expose her? She can’t even text Ketch to blow it off because she foolishly deleted his number and blocked him too.

“Yeah, sure.” She says instead, doesn’t know why but the thought of having Dean around will probably make her feel better? It’ll at least keep her from spilling Ketch everything she knows and make it worse. 

*

Dean and her are sitting at the table, decided to go there before for lunch and now they’re having coffee and waiting for Ketch. 

She’s glad Dean agreed to go eat there beforehand but she has never seen Ketch and it would really be embarrassing if she wouldn’t even recognize her own ‘cousin’. 

Linda did give her info about him though, it was after they talked last time that she sent Y/N a brief profile. 

“There you are!” 

She looks up at the man who’s smiling brightly at her. He wears a suit, complete with tie and all, dark grey, white shirt, black tie. There’s an expensive watch on his wrist and a ring on his pinky which, she thinks, is weird but to each their own.

“Hi,” She says, stands up and there’s a short confusion of how she should greet him but he takes the lead, kisses her cheeks and pulls her in for a hug.

One that doesn’t seem to end and she hates that. Dean’s clearing his throat audibly and Ketch releases her with a grin that signals trouble.

_This is going great._

“Ketch, this is Dean—”

“—Winchester, I know,” Ketch extends a hand and adds, “I saw your face in the newspaper a couple of days ago.”

_Ah. What a liar._

Dean takes Ketch’s hand and there’s a small smile on Dean’s face but she knows that expression too well. It says something like he doesn’t know where to categorize Ketch yet. Dean wants to play nice but he can sense that’s something off about that guy. She can’t blame Dean, she’s weirded out herself.

They sit down and Ketch orders a coffee before he starts to talk, and my god, that man can talk.

Occasionally Dean would look at her, his eyes pleading for her to end this madness.

“What are you doing for a living?” Dean asks Ketch and she doesn’t know if it’s out of genuine curiosity or if it’s a way for Dean to show that he’s polite. 

“I used to work for the MI6.” Ketch says matter of factly, like it’s no fucking big deal. “But now I’m a solicitor. Or as you Americans say, lawyer.”

Dean nods. If the mention of the MI6 did throw him off, he doesn’t show it. “And what are you doing in America?”

“Oh, you know, visiting my relatives,” Ketch nods at Y/N, “And I’m looking for a job. Looking to stay, actually.”

“Your mom will be heartbroken.” She mumbles. How fucking dare he uses the meeting to try to get in while Y/N told Linda that she’s got this.

“Yeah, but I’m not the first one who breaks her heart, am I?” Ketch looks at her, raising an eyebrow. It’s a dig at Linda’s and their relationship that has become straining, she knows.

“Anyway,” Ketch goes on, “I was wondering since you’re here, Dean, maybe you know of any openings in your organization?”

So this is what it was about, isn’t it? He really does try to get in? Will probably try to destroy her life and Dean’s before she can finish her mission? Not on her fucking watch. She’s fuming on the inside.

Dean sets his coffee down, one of his hands goes under the table, rubs at her thigh, as if he knows her distress. “I wouldn’t know about it. Ms MacLeod is my Head of HR. She’d know. Maybe you could contact her.”

Ketch looks at Dean, perplexed. As if he doesn’t get rejected often.

“I thought maybe, you know, we’re family.” Ketch adds.

“Oh, stop that bullshit Ketch, we are not! I barely know you and then you come here and want to meet me just because you want a job?” She’s outraged, feels stupid because she made Dean come here and there’s someone sitting across from her that could blow off her cover within a blink of an eye!

“Babe, it’s okay.” Dean squeezes her thigh. 

“It’s not, Dean! It’s not okay. I didn’t know he wanted to ask for a job. I’m— Let’s go.” She stands up, leaving Dean to catch up to her. “And Ketch, if you want a job, get one yourself.”

Dean fishes out a bill from his pants and leaves it on the table. Y/N’s already walking out. 

  
  
  


*

  
  
  


“I hate my family.” She breathes out as she leans her head against the car door, feels hot and uncomfortable all of a sudden, “I’m sorry, I didn’t know. I don’t want you to think that I’m using you for my family's gain.” 

“Baby, really, it’s okay.” Dean tries to calm her down, his hand finds her thigh, stroking it up and down. 

“I feel so foolish.” 

“You are not. You’re being nice and sometimes, people tend to take advantage of that. I’m used to it, actually.”

“I don’t want my family taking advantage of you.”

Dean chuckles, “I think I can handle it fine myself, you really don’t have to worry about that.”

Her bra stabs at her sides, that damn thing, seriously. Everything feels too restrictive right now. 

Y/N unhooks her bra on the back, slips out of the straps and pulls it out through the arm of her shirt. She feels so much better now.

Dean’s forehead creases when he sees it. “What did you do?”

She shrugs. 

“How is that even possible?” 

She laughs, “You’ve never seen someone do it before? You’re shitting me.”

“Well, sweetheart, usually I take them off or the woman does it, you know, more gracefully.”

“Yeah yeah, I’m not graceful, I get it. Bras are overrated anyway.” She bunches it up and throws it to the floor.

Dean has to laugh, “Yeah, they are. Your tits shouldn’t be covered by anything. Except maybe my hands.”

He says it in that straight face of his that makes her face flare up.

  
  
  
  


_____________________________

  
  
  
  


Y/N’s taking a bath to relax from Ketch and Dean has brought her a glass of wine, almost changed his mind on going out for that meeting when he saw her there, with foam on her head and a smile decorating her pink cheeks. Felt a strong urge to jump right in too, but he’s really got to go, Cas would give him hell if he would show up too late and that would definitely happen if he would stay next to the tub for too long.

So he steals a kiss before he tells her that he’ll see her later. And it’s hard. Hard to walk out from a wet and naked girl in his tub. He does it nonetheless, someone has got to be the reasonable one around here and today’s his turn.

He walks out, and takes his keys when he hears the doorbell.

They never have someone ringing the doorbell. At least not when they didn’t order anything and he knows he didn’t but maybe she ordered something before taking a bath and forgot to tell him.

Dean opens to Ketch.

“Hi, uh, I just wanna come and apologize for making a fool out of myself. Is Y/N here?” The man looks behind Dean, then and really, Dean doesn’t know what it is but something about Ketch irks him very much. 

Against his better judgment, Dean opens the door wider, letting Ketch step in. He is family after all, right? He lets Ketch follow him inside. “Yeah, she’s still taking a ba—”

The blow to the back of his head knocks Dean out of balance and to the side, his body hitting the wall close to the entrance. He did not see that coming.

Dean turns around, his vision is blurry from the blow. Before he can even react, Ketch’s right fist connects with Dean's face. Once, twice, three times, sending him on his side, his body hits the floor with a dull heavy thud. 

_Yep, definitely didn’t see it coming._

He tries to get up, but there’s a blow in his stomach, feet kicking at his ribs, it punches the air out of his lungs. 

“You fucking son of a bitch!” Dean growls, and tuns on his stomach, kneels up a little. He sees splatters of blood on the floor. There’s another kick, right into his middle, making him feel nauseous.

  
  
  
  


_____________________________

  
  
  
  
  


Y/N hears the bell, and thinks it’s weird because she didn’t order anything and she doubts that Dean did, knowing that he’ll be out until late at night.

With a weird feeling in her guts, she gets out of the bath, wraps a towel around her, and secures it with a knot.

She tiptoes out of the bathroom and when she reaches the bedroom, she hears a thud of something heavy hitting a wall. 

There’s noises like someone’s grunting before there’s another thud and this time, she can feel the vibration of the flooring beneath her bare feet.

Instinctively, she runs to the closet, retrieves a gun from the cabinet, has to punch in the code twice because her hands are shaking. 

Y/N breathes relief when it opens and she quickly grabs the gun Dean has bought for her. Probably not _really_ bought it, but what does it matter now.

Clicking off the safety, she draws it, walks slowly to the bedroom door that’s standing ajar. Dean never closes it when he knows that she’ll be alone. Knowing that she likes it when the cats can come in and bother her.

There she sees it, Dean’s on the floor on his knees, his one arm braced on the floor while he holds his stomach with his other hand. His face is bloody and in pain, there’s a cut above his left eyebrow. Dark red blood splatters the floor.

Standing above Dean, is Ketch. He has a crooked grin on his face. 

“You fucking son of a bitch!” Dean growls and Ketch only laughs, kicks Dean some more.

She tries to keep calm, tries to breath. That fucking son of a bitch, for real!

Taking one last deep breath, she steps out but holds her gun steady, points it towards Ketch.

“You tracked our car.” She says calmly. She’s not dumb, can put two and two together. But also because she doesn’t have any other explanation on how Ketch could know where she lives. Not even Linda knows it because they don’t track phones of undercover agents. 

“Aw, Y/N no guns please, I didn’t use mine.” Ketch lifts his jacket, showing her that his gun is still in his holster. “Well, that’s a lie, I did for the first blow but I didn’t shoot. I need him alive, you understand, don’t you?” Ketch sounds so fucking arrogant and it makes her blood boil.

Dean’s wincing on the floor between them. And it hurts her, it physically hurts her to see him hurt. 

“Shut up!” She hisses, has tears in her eyes. There’s so much going on in her mind, she doesn’t know what’s right and what’s wrong anymore. All she knows is that she wants Ketch to stop hurting Dean.

“Lower your gun, darling.” Ketch is still looking at her with a shiteating grin on his face. “You wouldn’t shoot me. You don’t have it in you, am I right?. How would you explain to my mo—”

The bullet goes right through the crease between his eyebrows. 

She doesn’t know why she pulled the trigger. Doesn’t know why she killed Ketch. Fact is that she didn’t want to hear him say more, fact is, that he invaded her life. Fact is, that he hurt Dean and by doing it, he — by proxy — hurt her too. And there’s no way out of it. Ketch already knows too much. If she doesn’t do it, Dean will and she has to answer too many questions that Dean will be throwing at her. Questions she doesn’t even have answers to herself. She doesn’t want to face them yet. Not when she still has time left that she could actually enjoy with him.

_She killed a man._

The realization hit her like a freight train.

Not only a man. A special agent. A Fed. 

One of her own. 

Linda will never forgive her.

The Bureau will never forgive her.

She’s no better than Dean. She’s now in this as much as he is. This life has consumed her, and there’s no way of getting out. She isn’t even sure now if she even wants to get out at all.

Letting herself sink down to the floor, she leans the side of her face against the door frame and starts to cry. Her hand slowly releases her gun.

Her vision is blurry and she closes her eyes for a brief moment, thinking about all the consequences of her action. When she opens her eyes again, Dean’s right in front of her. He’s in pain, she can see that but nonetheless he crawled over the floor to be close to her.

His hands cradle her face as he places a kiss on her forehead, thumbs brushing at the tears that streamed down her cheeks.

“You okay?” He asks her, and there’s a split in his lips and blood at the corner of his mouth. 

He’s hurt more than she is but he still asks her if she’s okay. 

She does not deserve that.

Unable to answer, she sits still and that prompts Dean to get closer, he sits up, grunting loudly as he does. And then he holds her face firm in his hands, lays his forehead on hers. Their noses touch. 

“Baby, I need to know if you’re okay.”

She nods but cries some more. 

He kisses her lips and she kisses him back, pours every _sorry_ she can not say into the kiss.

Dean then pulls her towards his chest, lets her cry into it. “I guess I have to call for a clean up, huh?” 

Y/N nods again and then out of the corner of her eyes, she sees the two cats slowly coming out from under the sofa. They walk towards Dean and her. She smiles and Dean lets go off her, grunting when he adjusts himself. He takes Bubbles, places the cat on her lap while he holds Cuddles. 

It dawns on her then, after she strokes the cats for a while that she didn’t ask if he’s okay.

He’s been asking her twice and she wasn’t even the one who took the beating!

“Are you okay?” She finally asks and Dean breathes out, pulls the corner of his lips up to a little smile.

“Never been better.” 

“Liar.” She mutters, then adds, “I need to check if anything’s broken.” Sitting up straight, she lowers Bubbles back on the floor but the cat stays close, watches her as she cradles Dean’s face.

“Baby,” Dean’s holding his breath when she skims one of her hands over his ribs, flinches as she touches him, “I can’t believe I’m saying this myself, but I’d rather you don’t touch me right now.”

She purses her lips. “But a kiss is okay?”

“That’s always okay.” He smiles a weak smile.

  
  


*

  
  


Y/N helps Dean after, throws his hand over her shoulder and walks him over to the couch before she calls for Sergei. 

“I’m gonna call Cas,” He grunts some more as he settles into the couch.

She walks over to the door and leaves it open for when Sergei comes up. 

Turning around, she avoids looking at the dead body of Ketch on the floor. 

“Do you want anyone to know about your cousin?”

She frowns at first before it dawns on her that he’s talking about Ketch. Hopes that he didn’t see her hesitation, “No.” She then says, “No, I don’t.”

Because it’s the truth. If possible, she’d like to avoid anyone ever finding out.

“Okay.” Dean nods.

There’s a knock at the door and she leads Sergei into the apartment. The man doesn’t even bat an eye when he sees a dead body on the floor. She guesses that he’s not paid to ask questions.

She leaves Sergei and Dean in the living room, disappears into the bedroom and thinks about calling Linda.

Y/N doesn’t call though. Maybe, she thinks, maybe it’s better when she acts like she doesn’t know anything at all. 

  
  


*

  
  


Sergei helps Dean into bed and Y/N props up the pillows before undressing him. He grunts out in pain as she makes him sit up a little to get his shirt off his shoulders. He’s already half asleep by the time she pulls off his socks. 

She’s been given two different kinds of painkillers by Sergei and he tells her exactly when Dean should take which pills over the next three days. Thankfully nothing’s broken. 

Cas arrives with a couple of men later and they immediately start with the clean up. Nobody said a word. It’s like everyone knows what they're doing and she has the feeling that it’s not the first time that they’re doing this.

Y/N takes the cats and closes the room to their bedroom. The workers are being loud but Dean’s even snoring a little by now, unfazed of what’s going on around him.

The cats immediately jump onto the bed, lay themselves around Dean and she couldn’t not take a picture of them together like this even if Dean’s face is bruised. 

There’s a band aid that holds his skin together above his eyebrow instead of stitches, the bruise on his cheek already starts to turn green. His lips are swollen and it hurts her to see him like this. It physically hurts her heart.

She wonders how long it’ll take Linda to piece two and two together on Ketch’s whereabouts. How long it’ll be for Linda to knock down the door and arrest her and Dean. Wonders if Linda even knows that Ketch was trying to forgo her commands and contact Y/N directly just because he wants to play a fucking hero. Because honestly, she can’t imagine that the thing Ketch pulled off was in Linda’s interest. Not when Y/N’s so close to the finish line.

  
  
  


*

  
  
  


After about two hours, there’s a knock on the bedroom door. She opens up to Cas and wave of something that smells like bleach hit her. It seems like they were trying to make it better by spraying some flower scents around the living room, which actually might have made it even worse. She’s going to have to open the windows for hours to get the smell out.

“We’re done.” Cas says, and steals a glimpse of Dean in bed. “How is he?”

“Sleeping.” She answers. 

“That’s good. He should sleep. The meeting today went well. Just tell him that? Okay?”

She smiles, “I will.” 

“If there’s anything, you know…” 

“I know. Thank you, Cas.”

“Anytime.”

She leaves the door open, but goes back to bed, picks her pencil and her notebook back up. She has to turn on the bedside lamp because it’s getting dark outside, the room lights up in a warm soft glow.

It’s an hour later when Dean opens his eyes. He squints at her. 

“Is this heaven? Am I in heaven?” He mumbles, his lips purse into a smile. 

Y/N replicates his smile, “No, sorry, you’re still stuck with me.”

He starts to laugh but then he flinches in pain. “Baby, no jokes, okay? My body can’t take it.”

“Shit, yeah,” She’s crawling over to his side on all fours. “‘M sorry.”

“Come on,” He says, pats the side of his bed and she goes in, lays her head on his arm. “How are you feeling?”

She chuckles. That’s so typical Dean. He’s the one who’s hurt but he asks her how she’s feeling. She does not deserve him. “Tired. How are you feeling?”

“Like I’ve been beaten.” 

She tilts her head, kisses him on his good cheek. “I’m sorry about what happened. I didn’t know that he would come and hurt you.”

“That’s okay. It’s not your fault.”

She wants to tell him that it is. 

Dean didn’t say more though, didn’t ask her why Ketch holds a grudge against Dean. Why she shot him. Because that’s also Dean. He doesn’t ask questions to answer that he doesn’t need to know. Answer that won’t change his decision. Answers that aren’t relevant on how he lives his life.

She can also guess that he might know. Ketch mentioned the MI6. Dean’s no fucking idiot.

“Can I ask you something?” He says after a while and her heart picks up pace.

That’s it, she thinks. Finally he’s going to ask her and she’s going to tell him the truth and everything will be over. 

“Anything.” She says, because it’s true. At this point it’s all or nothing. She doesn’t want to lie to him any more.

“Why are the cats in our bed?”


	31. Chapter XXXI

Dean’s in and out of sleep the whole night. He doesn’t really remember how long he’s been knocked out. At least he didn’t dream but he remembered that every time he opened his eyes, she was there, next to him, awake and looking tired, but ready to get him things he needed. He didn’t need much because everything he really needed for him to feel better was right there in bed with him. Maybe except one time when he felt thirsty and she handed him a glass of water which he had to suck through a damn straw because his lips hurt to drink it. There’s really no sexy way for a man to suck at a straw but what other option does he have really. Y/N knows that it bothers him too, he can tell by the bright grin on her face when she watches him suck on it grumpily.

The next day, he’s rested more than she is. 

He lets her sleep in, gets up and almost bites his tongue off while he tries to lift himself out of bed without making a sound. He debates on wearing something but then abandons the thought, mainly because he would have to go search for a shirt and would wake her up and then there might be the agony of wearing it. So underwear it is. 

Dean walks out to make coffee and feed the damn cats that have slept in their bed the whole night. All this, while grunting and groaning silently because of the pain he still feels. It’s already much better now though. It was just the getting up that was the part that hurts the most til now. 

His phone’s still on the couch where he’s left it after he called for Cas. 

There’s nothing in the apartment that indicates that someone’s been shot through their head here, if you ignore the smell of bleach.

Dean sips his coffee, decides to keep on standing, while he thumbs through his phone. He finds the number he was searching for and presses call.

“Dean!” Sam picks up at the first ring and he sounds worried. Not that Dean expected anything less. 

Dean breathes out, “Hey, Sammy, it’s me.”

“Duh, I know that. How are you? Feeling better?”

Dean rolls his eyes. “Cas?”

“Yeah.” 

“I’m good, Sam. Don’t worry. It’s not the first time someone beat the shit out of me.” Dean says, tries to grin a little.

“Why didn’t you fight back?”

“Because he was a coward and attacked me from behind.”

“Ah,” 

Dean takes another sip of coffee, “Can I ask you something?” 

“Of course.” It came out without hesitation.

Taking several deep breaths which kind of hurt, Dean wills his heart to calm down a little before he speaks, “When— I mean, how did you realize that Jess was the one for you?”

Sam’s awfully quiet on the other end and the silence feels like hours. Then Sam says, “Y/N?”

Dean breathes out, “Yeah.”

“I pretty much knew it from the start,” Sam pauses to clear his throat. “But it’s not about Y/N, Dean. It’s about you. It’s about how you feel when you’re in her presence.”

Dean thinks about that. What does he feel? He feels happy. So much he feels like his heart will burst if he doesn’t control himself. 

Then Sam goes on, “Don’t go ask yourself if she’s the one, but ask yourself instead if you’re the version of yourself that you want to be for the rest of your life when you’re with her. Are you genuinely happy?”

Yes, the answer is  _ yes _ . 

So he tells Sam, “I am.”

“It’s not just about sex?”

Dean rolls his eyes at that. “No, Sammy. It’s not just about sex.”

“How do you know that she loves you?” Sam sounds suspicious but Dean knows it’s with good intentions so he lets it slide.

“Because, she knows the worst things about me and somehow, it’s okay.”

“So, I take it you’re not terrified anymore?”

He breathes out before he answers, “It still does. Terrified me, I mean. But I’m making my peace with it. It’s easy with her, Sammy. I feel like she really  _ sees _ me, you know?” Dean chuckles then, “And she calls me out on my bullshit. Oh my god, so much bullshit.”

Sam’s laughing and Dean goes on. “I am the best version of me when I’m with her.”

“Yeah, Cas told me you’re not so scary to your people anymore. They still call you Mr. Grumpy, though.”

“They what?”

“Oh, please. As if you don’t know.”

Dean hears shouting coming out of the bedroom when he’s about to tell Sam more. He hears her call out his name, followed by footsteps.

“Uh-oh,” He says into his phone.

“Trouble?”

The door flies open and Y/N’s standing in the doorway, her hands braced on the door frame on each side, the flow of sunlight behind her. Her hair’s a mess around her face and they stick out in all directions. Prettiest cranky girl if he ever did see one.

“Dean Winchester!” She shouts.

Dean whispers into his phone, “Told you she calls me out on my bullshit. Someone’s mad. Gotta go. Bye Sammy!” He places the phone down, smiles at her.

She comes out, her shirts a couple of sizes too big and it hangs off one shoulder, because it’s his. 

“You should have told me you were going to get up. What if you fall and hurt yourself?” She’s standing in front of him now, pouting a little too and then she climbs up to the counter, sits on it so Dean doesn’t have to bend or look down. They’re almost the same height like this.

“I’m okay.” He tucks her hair back behind her ear, trying to organize the mess of a bun but gives up quickly because there’s just too much hair and there’s no way he can get them in order without using a brush. He has to bite back his laugh. “I’ve had much worse. It’s better already.” 

“Still,” She pouts some more. “Who did you talk to?”

It’s a first. She had never asked him who he was talking to. Not that he wouldn’t tell her. 

“Sammy.”

“Is he worried?” 

Dean hitches his breath before he lets out a puff of air the same time he says, “Yeah. Sammy’s never not worried.”

“Then there’s two of us.”

He purses his lips to a smile, it hurts a little. “Come on, I think I need to take some pills.”

Y/N looks around the counter, sees that Dean only had half a mug of coffee. “You have to eat something first.” 

Dean widens the corner of his lips into a shit eating grin while his hands strokes her thighs.

“Shush! I didn’t mean me!” She hops off the counter, before Dean could protest, finds some toasts and opens the fridge to take out a couple of eggs. 

  
  
  


***

  
  
  


The second day, Y/N’s awake before him, comes in and rushes into the bathroom. Dean hears the bath water running. 

She walks out again after a couple of minutes, her hands in her hair as she’s putting them up into a bun before she begins to tear at the sheets. 

“Whatchu doing?” He's still sleep drunk.

“I gotta change the sheets before I go to class.”

Ah, that’s right. She still has class. 

“Dean, get up. I drew you a bath. You start to smell funny.”

Dean raises an eyebrow at that. He hasn’t showered since… the incident, that’s true. “How funny?”

She starts to tear at her pillow case, “I don’t know, all sweaty and musky!”

He has to laugh at that. “You like it when I smell all sweaty and musky.”

That’s true. She once told him that she likes how he smells even after a gym session.

“Yeah, but you’re irritating me!” She forcefully pulls at the pillow underneath his head. “And it frustrates me!”

He can’t hold back his laugh now. He’s been dropping hints for the past two days that she turns him on but she’s being very strict and controlling about her needs. Not touching him the wrong way, not even once, just because he’s injured, even if it’s not even that bad.

“Up, up!” She shouts and Dean has no other option than to get up. “Go take a bath.” 

Dean knows when to back down so he walks over to the bathroom while she angrily changes the sheets. 

He’s sitting in the bath when she comes in, butt naked. “You getting in with me?”

“No, you still need to recover and I’m just gonna take a quick shower.”

Dean raises an eyebrow. A shower is more his thing too? Like, she’s more of a bath person and they’re used to taking baths together to make the other person feel better. Not to stew in it alone. But he leans back, rests his head on the ledge and watches her shower. He’s getting hard too, how can he not with that view. His hand grabs his cock, stroking it lazily. It feels good, kind of a relief.

“Are you touching yourself?” She’s baffled.

“You’re showering there, baby, how can I not.” And then with the next breath he adds, “You really have to go to class?”

“Don’t look at me like that,” 

“How?” Dean fakes innocent.

“All cute and ugh!”

“Ugh?” He tries not to laugh.

She finishes her shower, and dries herself off before she hangs the towel up and walks over to him. Dean’s wondering if she’s finally going to join him but apparently, her willpower is stronger than his. 

Y/N leans over the ledge before she dibs one hand into the water to cup his balls in her hand. 

Dean groans, it feels too good. She kisses his cheek, his nose, careful to avoid the cut above his eyebrow. 

Her hand moves downwards and he parts his thighs for her, her fingertips skims over his rim and when Dean looks up at her, she has this mischievous glint in her eyes. 

Dean loves that. 

He loves her. 

Definitely love.

Not that he ever doubted it.

She works her hand up again, while she whispers to him, “I’m touching you. You’re not allowed to touch me, okay?”

“Why not?” He’s a little disappointed.

“Because,” She says, kissing the corner of his lips, “I have to play the responsible one and I don’t want you to strain yourself.”

He can only nod because she’s stroking along his shaft, her grip’s tight, just on the right side of painful and then she twists her hand at the tip, paying special attention to his mushroom head, almost drives him fucking crazy.

Dean tries to behave but when he wants to look up, her bare tits are hanging right there so he toys at them, takes one nipple into his mouth, sucks at it, nibbles lightly, nearly has to chuckle when he hears her moan above him.

“Oh god,” She hitches her breath, leans down a little more so he can take care of both tits. “Can’t wait til you’re healed.”

He lets out a nipple with a pop. “Yeah? What do you want me to do?”

“Want you to eat me out,” 

He groans at that, because he wants that too. So much. He sucks in a nipple while she strokes him faster. 

“Go on, tell me,” He says with a nipple in his mouth. 

Sure, the angle they’re both in is not really comfortable for either one of them but he takes it, doesn’t complain because his upstairs brain is not working anyway.

“I want to ride your face. Oh god, your pretty face,” Dean looks up to see her closing her eyes, probably imagining it and he would love to touch her. His gaze falls to her pussy, sees slick running along the inside of her thighs. His mouth starts to water at the sight. She’s always so wet. “I want you to fuck me, deep and hard.”

He fucks up his hips against her fist, has trouble controlling himself because he’s fucking close. He’s imagining it too. Wants her spread out, wants to push his cock into her, wants to make her beg for him to make her come. 

“I want it fast, want you to turn me around, fuck me from behind, spank my ass, make them red, mark them up. Want you to finger my ass while you’re fucking my pussy. Mmh, want you to fuck me so hard I’ll feel it for days.”

He has to abandon her tits, has to lean his head back and close his eyes. His toes start to curl up.

“I want to ride you after, want you to choke me while I grind on your cock, want you to make me come with only the pressure on my throat and your dick in me.” She feels him tensing, she must have because she chuckles. “Wouldn’t you want that? Daddy?”

_ Daddy. _

Dean comes with a shudder and is shaking all over. 

_ This fucking girl. _

She kisses his temple before she stands up right, laughs as she goes on to clean her hands and walks out to get dressed.

“Come back!” Dean calls after her. “So I can bend you over my knee and spank you!”

Y/N runs in after she’s dressed, still giggling, and applies face cream on her face, following up with some powder and mascara. Dean watches as he lifts the plug of his bath. 

“Will you be okay if I go to class?” She turns, walks towards him and he gets up, pretends to slip and fall.

She doesn’t find it really funny, though, punches his chest. “You do that again, I swear,”

Dean grins, he’s much better, if it wasn’t for her telling him to rest he’d be out working again. Hell, in Afghanistan he’d be back fighting after a couple of hours of sleep. He climbs out of the tub and she gets a towel for him. “I’m fine, don’t worry. I might go out myself.”

_ Uh-oh. _

Her lips purse into a straight line but then she relaxes. “Fine, I’m not your mother. But please get someone else to drive. You’re still on medication.”

“Promise.” Dean says, sneaks his hands around her waist, pulls her closer. His dick stirs at being in such a close vicinity to her. And then he adds, “You really don’t wanna skip class?” 

Y/N rolls her eyes, stands on her tiptoes and presses her lips to his. 

And Dean thinks,  _ yeah, it really is. It’s easy with her. _

  
  
  


*

  
  
  


“Since when did I become an Uber driver?” Cas asks as Dean settles next to him.

“Shut up, I’ve been told not to drive.” Dean drawls and fights with the stupid seatbelt.

Cas raises his eyebrows comically. “By whom?”

Dean doesn’t answer.

“Ah,” Cas is laughing. “You’re so fucking gone on her.”

Maybe Dean should be worried, should be ashamed that she’s got him wrapped around her finger but Dean can’t even bring himself to care.

When Cas’ laughter dies down he asks, “Where do we go?”

“Take me to your jeweler. How much do people usually spend on a ring?” 

“I thought they would recommend two months salary.” Cas is giggling a little because he knows how much Dean makes a month.

“That would be too much, I want a ring she can wear without someone robbing her.”

“I know that you’re not looking for advice,” Cas says, and looks at him with his blue orbs before he goes on, “But knowing her, she'd be happy about an edible ring, which of course would miss the whole point but I’m just saying… she’d be happy with whatever.”

Dean sighs, “I know. Which makes it so much harder.”

Cas rounds up the curb, parks right in front of the store. “When will you ask her?”

“When it’s all over.”

  
  
  


_____________________________

  
  
  
  


Y/N’s between classes when she texts him.

_ Y/N: What are you doing? _

_ D: Ah, you know… things. _

_ Y/N: With Cas? _

_ D: Did you put one of my men up to follow me? _

_ Y/N: It’s a wild guess. I know you. Tell him I said hi. _

_ D: He says hi back. _

_ Y/N: Don’t eat anything, I’ll get something on the way home. _

_ D: There’s only one thing I wanna eat. _

_ D: Stop rolling your eyes _

She laughs but doesn’t answer, places her phone back in her backpack because the teacher’s already here.

  
  
  


*

  
  
  


Dean’s already home when she enters the apartment. He’s lying on the sofa, Cuddles by his side and Bubbles on the blanket next to him. Bubbles is doing much better, and they didn’t need to bring her to the vet and Y/N’s glad that she at least doesn’t have to worry about the cat too.

He’s still wearing slacks and a dress shirt, sleeves folded up, top two buttons loose. A sign he’s been out and probably just got home not too long ago. Dean’s laughing to himself as music plays from his phone, she guesses that he fell into a funny video youtube hole. He looks up at her when he hears her.

“Hey,” He smiles.

“Hi,”

She toes her shoes off, and drops her backpack at the entrance before walking in and holds out the pizza box for him to take.

“Awe, the second thing I want to eat.” He says, taking the box and opens it while she rolls her eyes and walks into the kitchen to get napkins and beers.

Walking back, she places the things on the coffee table and settles next to him. Opts for the free space as not to have to make Cuddles go away. 

Dean pulls her into his arms, kisses her forehead before she nuzzles herself against the crook of his neck and breathes in the familiar smell of him before she takes a look at his face. 

He looks much better, the bruise is almost gone, his lips are back to their usual size, the only thing remaining are the freckles across his face and the deep crinkles around his eyes when he smiles as he does now.

“I get a hand job  _ and _ pizza? Must be my lucky day!”

“Don’t turn on your charms, you might get luckier.” She winks and moves down to sit on the floor before taking out a slice from the box. Dean joins her, sits down with a grunt. He hands her the TV remote but she tells him that everything he wants to watch would be okay with her. She’s too tired to really be watching anyway. Dean settles on Scooby Doo.

“How was your day?” She asks, “Got anything done?”

“More than I thought I would.” Dean shrugs, and digs in, takes a big bite out of his slice of the pizza.

Just when she’s about to take a bite herself her phone goes off. 

“Ah shit,”

“Leave it.” Dean suggests and she really wants to but it starts to ring again.

She groans when she gets up, looks at the caller ID. “My professor. Probably about the project that’s due in three days. I’ll just be a minute.”

Dean nods, turns his attention back to Scooby on the TV and drinks from his bottle.

As soon as she closes the door to the bedroom, she picks up and hisses at the phone, “If anything at all, you’re only supposed to text me!”

Linda sighs, “I’m sorry. I’m just… are you free to talk?”

“Yeah, make it quick.”

“Ketch is missing.”

Y/N’s heart begins to race. “What?”

“He told us that he’s meeting you but we have lost track of him.”

“Yeah, I’ve met him. He wanted a job but I couldn’t help him.” She lies, doesn’t see any other option.

“He did not.”

“Ya!”

“My god, I told him not to!” 

Y/N senses that Linda must be angry at the revelation. “So, you didn’t put him up for it.”

“Of course not!” Linda sounds offended, “I gave him your number because he just wanted to have some tips. You know, learning the rope, get tips and tricks.”

“And you lost track of him after he met me? How is this possible?”

“The last signal was from the café. He turned his phone off after, probably hiding something from us.”

“Shit, Linda, I need to get back. I haven’t heard from him since. I’m sorry.” She lies again and this time, it’s a little bit easier.

“That’s okay. If you should hear from him, let me know alright?” 

“I will.”

“Take care. I’ll wait for your briefing.”

“Bye, Linda.”

She hangs up, walks into the bathroom and splashes cold water over her face before drying it off. Takes another deep breath before she walks back into the living room. Dean’s still munching away and looks back at her, “Babe, you missed the best part!” He’s smiling with his mouth full and how could she not love that big 6ft freckled manchild?

  
  



	32. Chapter XXXII

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm spoiling you today because you don't just get one but two chapters. Please read this one first and carefully. There's a little fluff and smut but there's angst in there as well.  
> If you read carefully (not the smut part), you'll see the angst in there.

Life’s pretty much back to normal fourteen days after. The scar on Dean’s face is almost invisible. Y/N was glad because every time she looked at the scar she had that cloud over her face and Dean knows that she still blames herself for it. 

She’s told him countless times that if it wasn’t for her, Ketch wouldn’t have even found out who Dean was and wouldn’t have shown up and tried to hand him over to the Feds.

Although she doesn’t say it, but Dean takes a wild guess that Ketch was still working for the MI6 and had probably been sent here to dig up some dirt. Of course Ash couldn’t find any information on him. It’s like that dude never existed and it’s weird, like, _really_ weird. Something feels off, but Dean can’t quite put a finger on it. 

But now he doesn’t have to. Ketch is off the radar and there’s no interference since. So, actually, life’s pretty good right now. As good as it can be.

  
  
  


*

  
  
  


Today’s their four months anniversary. They never celebrated actually because they could never agree on a date. They don’t really know when it all started, the lines blur together. For Dean, though, it has all started when he walked into the bar that fateful night. And that’s the date he goes by whether she likes it or not.

He wakes before her and looks over, she’s still sleeping, both of her arms high up above her head, the blanket only covers her to her navel, one leg outside of it. Her lips are slightly parted, her hair is tied into a bun but it’s all messy. Her tits are on display too, because she became accustomed to sleep in only her panties and Dean likes it as much as he hates it because he can barely hold himself back from touching her.

 _It’s easy_ , Dean thinks, so easy to snuggle close and trailing the tip of his nose against her warm cheeks. Easy to tickle her skin with the fluff of his scruff. 

She stirs, groans a little.

Dean chuckles at that, one of his hands strokes her stomach under the cover, works its way up to cup her tit.

There’s another stir and she gobbles, turning her head to the side but not quite opening her eyes. He knows she’s awake. She must be. 

His fingers twist at her nipple, rolls it between them and his tongue starts to flicker against the other nipple, they both begin to harden. 

She groans again and Dean grins, sucks in her tits and pulls with his teeth.

“Dean!” Y/N yelps up.

_There it is._

He pops the tit out of his mouth, takes the opportunity and keeps her hands pinned above her head with both of his hands as he climbs on top of her.

“Happy anniversary.” He says, noses along her nose and kisses her.

“Anniversary of what?” She mumbles against his lips.

“Our meeting.” He answers, places kisses down her chin and throat, feels her arch her back, pressing her body closer to his. She’s always so fucking responsive. 

Dean lets go, though, rolls back to his side and opens his bedside drawer to take out a card, before rolling himself back and handing it to her.

She’s still yawning and rubs at her eyes with her hands and then she looks at the card, frowning. “I didn’t get anything for you.” She takes it anyway and opens the envelope.

“Oh, don’t worry. You’ll give me something.” He winks and it’s cocky he knows because she’s rolling her eyes. 

Y/N takes out the card and he watches her face. It goes from frowning to a smile and Dean’s heart skips.

The front of the card reads:

_I CAN’T BELIEVE HOW MUCH I’M NOT SICK OF YOU!_

And on the inside, he wrote:

_YOU’RE STILL DEFINITELY THE BEST FUCKING DECISION I’VE EVER MADE_

_XX_

_D._

She laughs heartily and Dean hugs her, pulls her close and kisses her temple.

“Thank you.” She kisses his cheek, “Now I feel bad for not knowing what today is.” She says with a pout.

Dean lets her bury her face in the crook of his neck. “Oh I have an idea what you could do.”

“What?” She mumbles against his skin, and he knows that she expects him to say something nasty.

“You remember the auction?”

“Oh no…”

He laughs, “Oh, yes!” And then he adds, “First thing’s first. We’re taking a morning bath.”

It’s weird, Dean thinks. He’s never ever taken a bath before she came along. He’s not even sure if he ever used the bathtub except for the times he fell asleep in it drunk as a lord. Since he asked her to take a bath with him the first time, it became their escape, their sanctuary. Taking baths with her seems to stop time, stretching out the mornings or nights, pushing back obligations. It feels like it’s just them and Dean likes that. Likes the comfort of being naked with her in the tub. Not only the sexual aspect but also the intimacy it provides. He can’t imagine taking a bath with someone else and that should say something.

  
  
  


_____________________________

  
  
  
  


Y/N’s in the bathroom, putting on finishing touches. Dean had slipped out of the room after their bath and is now waiting for her. She doesn’t bother with make up or anything really, just a hydration cream but she did let her hair loose and tried to curl them but of course it’s a futile attempt. They can never stay the way they should. It’s frustrating, really.

She walks out, braces one hand on the door frame. Dean’s grinning at her from the bed. He has his head propped up on his hands, the blanket covers his legs to his navel. He looks delicious, it’s not fair. 

“This is ridiculous.” She sighs and Dean raises an eyebrow because he doesn’t agree with her thinking his idea is ridiculous, obviously.

Dean wanted her to wear one of his dress shirts so he fishes out the one he wore yesterday from the hamper. He doesn’t want her to wear a new one apparently because it smells of him and he likes that. He also requested she wears a garter belt and stockings. And yes, it’s ridiculous because first of all, they won’t be needing clothes for what they’re about to do anyway, and second of all, the shirt’s too big and she’s drowning in it. She can’t really believe that she oozes with sexappeal while wearing that, honestly.

“It’s not.” Dean swallows and he looks at her like he could eat her alive. “Come here.” 

She pouts a little, climbs on the bed and crawls up to him on all fours. Her knees are on either side of him and she hovers above him.

“You look so fucking sexy in my shirt.” He growls, hooks his finger into the open collar and pulls her close for a kiss. “You know why I want you to wear it?”

“So I would smell like you?”

“Yeah,” Dean smiles, “Because you’re mine and I’m keeping you for as long as you’ll let me.”

“And if I don’t wanna be yours anymore?” 

She can feel him tensing underneath her. He looks at her, his eyes are sincere, “Then I will respect your decision even though it’ll probably kill me.”

He kisses her again then, tries to not think about it and she pours everything into the kiss, nibbles at his bottom lips, sucks in his tongue and makes him moan into her open mouth. 

Dean turns them around, so that he’s on top and lowers his face, kisses her like he means it, like he’s begging her to stay and let him keep her with every touch of their lips.

His hands skim over her body, lips trailing over her chin, down her throat. He sucks at her pulse point, makes her close her eyes and moan his name. 

She writhes when he uses his teeth, bites a mark and sucks at the skin, draws blood to the surface. “You’re mine,” He says with her flesh between his teeth and she nods, because she is. She really, truly is, and she wants him to keep her, wants it so much even if she knows that it’s wishful thinking on her part.

He works his way down, unbuttons the shirt with skilled fingers, cups both her tits in his hands and squeezes them together. His tongue flickers over her nipples, one after another, sucks and bites at them, and she scrambles for purchase at the top of his back, hands finding his head, fists in his hair. “Prettiest tits, fuck,” He curses, seals his lips around the peak, lets it out again with a pop and she feels the tip of his hard cock brushing at her thighs, leaving a wet trail as his face works its way further down.

His teeth nibbles at her stomach, tongue dipping down into her navel, and then he’s in between her thighs, both of his hands fold her legs up by the back of her knees. 

“I thought I should tend to your needs and not the other way around.” She says, reminding him that he bid on the PA and not the other way around.

Dean chuckles, hot air breathes against her bare and wet cunt. “Oh, baby, that is my need.”

He swipes his tongue through her fold, parting her lips, the tip of his tongue tickling at her clit as his thumbs hold her open. 

“As sweet as ever,” He blows warm air against her wet pussy, before he dives in again, eats her out, and hums with pleasure. 

Y/N writhes above him and he has to hold her still. 

While Dean licks at her like she’s the best fucking lollipop, he takes his hand from the back of her legs and skims them across the back of her thighs until his fingers dip into the slick at the entrance of her pussy. 

He makes space for his fingers inside of her, moves his mouth up until he’s only sucking her clit while he drives two of his fingers inside. Dean curves them right, fucks into her slow and deep.

She keens, pushes her hips up, grinds her cunt against his mouth. Her hands find his hair, fists at them, driving her nail into his scalp. She’s so close already, and is panting hard. 

Dean knows of course and pauses to chuckle before he looks up to her. Their eyes meet and then he winks before pushing another finger in alongside the two already inside. 

“Dean!” Y/N yelps up, and then Dean stop sucking at her clit and she knows that he abandons eating her out in favor of making her squirt because he’s fucking her roughly, with three fingers. 

He moves up keep one of her legs wrap around his body as he leans forward and down, the fingers that’s not fucking her twists at her nipple before they move to claw around her throat.

She fists the sheets before one hand flies to the hand that’s choking her. Dean kisses her, rough and hard. 

The sloshing sound that’s coming out of her wet pussy makes her blush. 

“Shit,” She sounds broken, barely audible.

Dean lays his forehead against hers, “Come baby, come for me,”

And that’s it, that’s really all it takes for her stomach to cramp up, all it takes for her legs to shake, her eyes to cross and her eyelids to flutter as she comes with a cry. The sloshing sound is still there as he fucks her lazily before he takes it out of her and rubs at her sensitive clit. 

She yelps at his touch but then laughs and he presses his lips to hers after whispering, “Good girl.” 

He kisses her, hard, hungry and fucking dirty. 

“Dean,” She whines, her hands on his shoulder, squeezing and clawing.

He kisses her nose, her lips, her jaw, whispering, “I got you, baby.” Before moving down and spreading her legs, almost folding her in half again. 

Dean rubs his shaft along her pussy lips, coats it in her slick and oh god, it feels so good already but it’s not enough. Not nearly enough. 

“What do you want?”

“Your cock in me. Now.” Y/N has learned to tell what she wants and doesn’t shy away anymore.

He chuckles but is still stalling, still teasing her.

“Please, daddy?”

“Fuck, baby,” Dean almost lost his cool, almost slips in without meaning to. Because he’s a little shit like that, she knows. Likes to tease her as much as she likes to tease him. “Take it, put it where you want me.”

She grins, her hand reaches down, strokes him a couple of times before she places the head of his cock to her entrance and Dean pushes in, going deeper with every move of his hips.

They groan out at the same time. He fills her so good, goes in deep, knows that she likes it that way.

His hands now on her calves, pushing them up high as he fucks her faster. “Is that okay?” He asks like he still needs to make sure.

“Yeah,” Y/N swallows, pinching her nipple with one hand as the other one goes down to play with herself.

When she comes again on his cock, her pussy pushes him out and Dean hurriedly slips right back in, fucks her faster, slips out two more times and he has to chuckle at that, “Your pussy’s too damn wet baby. Come on, on all fours.”

He moves from the bed, makes room for her to take off the shirt and positions herself on all fours in front of the mirror. She sees him through the mirror, sees him climb back to the bed, sees him bend his head down, sucks and licks at her for a short moment while he fists his own cock as he slaps the free hand down on her ass cheek, rests it there and squeezes her flesh. 

Dean strokes himself a couple more times, spanks her twice more before he places his dick to her entrance. “Back up, baby.” He says and waits for her to fuck back into him.

And of course she does, at this point she’s too desperate not to. She lowers her body onto her elbows and moves her hips, fucking herself back onto his cock and after a while, Dean meets her halfway. “So good, baby. Such a good girl fucking yourself on my cock. Fuck, wish you could see how good you look from up here.”

His hands are now firm on her ass, spanks her once more, the sting makes her moan out loud.

“Harder.” She pants.

“Harder?”

“Yeah, spank me harder.”

“Christ,” Dean is panting as he brings his hand down on her ass, hard, loud. It hurts so good. “So fucking sexy when you ask for what you want.”

“Fuck,” She breathes out, her eyes look to the mirror, sees him grip at the flesh on her lower back, squeezes it so hard she’s sure he’s going to leave bruises. “Fuck me harder, please.”

“You sure about that?” He asks because he’s already fucking her pretty hard and she knows that because it’s bordering on pain when his dick goes too deep but yes, she’s sure, she wants more. So much more.

“Yes, Dean, please.” Y/N’s aware that she sounds whiny and at this point, she can’t bring herself to care. 

“Okay,” He says, and then again, “Okay.”

She can see through the mirror that he repositions himself, bracing one leg up to the side so he has better balance. Both his hands skims up her back, fingertips bumping along her spine until he reaches her shoulder. One hand goes to her hair, pulling at them to keep her face trained on the mirror as he fucks her harder and so much faster. 

“Fuck, look at you. Taking my dick so fucking good. Good girl.” Dean’s almost out of breath, pistons his hips against her rear, the sound they make is lewd and loud, skin slapping against skin, obscene moans and groans fills the room. 

And she sees if, sees herself in the reflection, sees his hand in her hair, his leg standing out, braced out to the side. Sees the crease his stomach and groin makes when he moves, thinks it’s fucking hot. He always said that she turns him on so much but he has no idea how much he turns _her_ on. How she could come from watching him fuck her alone. And just like that, like it’s the easiest thing in the world, she comes quiet but hard, her legs give out and she slumps down, her pussy’s gripping him tight so Dean’s coming down with her, pushes in deep once more.

“Shit, baby, that’s a fucking amazing orgasm.” He’s grinning as he fucks into her lazily, when the walls aren’t as tight anymore. 

When her walls are finally loose enough, he slips out, turns around to lie back on the bed, head props up on a pillow. “Come on, ride me.”

She’s still holding her pussy, covering it because it feels over-sensitive. “Oh my god Dean, I don’t know if I have the strength to be on top.”

“Trust me, I got you, baby.” He beckons her over with a gesture of his hands, and then he adds. “Besides, I’m barely holding myself together right now. I’m gonna burst soon.”

She gets up, walks up to the bed on her knees and then she straddles him. Her hands strokes him before he puts the head of his dick to her entrance and sits down on it. She’s so wet it slips right in. 

At first she sets the pace, circling and grinding on his cock while Dean’s hands are on her hips, helping her grind.

“You’re fucking amazing,” He says and looks up at her with adoration in his eyes while his arms go up to knead at her tits. “I’m close.”

He pulls her down then, wraps his arms around her middle and she’s on her knees, both on either side of his body. He fucks up into her, hard, fast and with wild abandon while he whispers in her ear, “You gonna come with me? Can you do that, huh baby?”

“I-I can try.” She says and lets herself fall. She’s sucking at his throat before Dean makes her look up and then he kisses her when she comes, following her over the edge right after. 

He’s still holding her as they come down from their high. His dick still lazily fucking her, the feel of wet cum in between them. 

“Fuck,” Dean breathes out and smiles when she holds herself up, looking down at him. “I think we need a shower.”

  
  
  
  


*

  
  
  


The day with her being his PA was filled with both of them walking around the house naked and Dean eats her out right at the kitchen counter when he wanted to prepare lunch. After he finally made lunch, he made her sit in his lap while they ate and slipped right in but didn't move. Made her sit there with his dick inside of her and every time she would wiggle her hips, he held her still and that, is pure torture.

Y/N sucks him later when he was asleep on the couch, woke him right up and made him come down her throat. 

It was good. Really good. Dean made it a challenge to see how many times he could make her come. She lost track after fourteen and she doesn’t think that he still has an overview of the score.

At the end of the day, they were exhausted and while they’re sitting around naked, eating leftover pizza, she’s still leaking cum all over. Dean jokes that his dick is swollen and raw so she can’t be expecting him to fuck her in the next couple of days but then he winks and he says that he’s going to eat her twice a day instead, she snorts out a laugh, the bite of pizza flying right out of her mouth. 

_It’s easy with him_ , she thinks. Easy how they can fuck like animals but can chill and calm down together and joke around. Easy how they can draw strengths from one another. Easy how they know each other's boundaries. It’s easy to love him.


	33. Chapter XXXIII

Y/N’s busy with class for the next two months, finishing four paintings for a school exhibition and of course Dean ends up buying one of them (he wanted to buy all four but she told him that they only have space for one painting at the apartment), and spends a ridiculous amount on it, too. But the money is for a good cause so she let him. 

He shakes hands with her teachers at the exhibit and she thinks it’s ridiculous how everyone is fawning over him, teachers and students alike. She can’t blame them though, Dean can turn on his business persona like a switch and he’s charming, too. Which, in hindsight, put her in this position as his girlfriend in the first place. 

The girls of her class corner him, and she just laughs when he looks over to her as she talks to another male classmate, his eyes are screaming for help. 

She decides to help him after a long while, goes to his rescue and pulls him to the side, ignoring the eyes of the girls because they are clearly shooting her daggers. 

“Thanks, but you could have come sooner.” He places his hand on the small of her back, guides her out of sight of spectators. 

“Dean Winchester the gangster needs help?” She grins cockily and he bends down to steal a kiss.

“Oh my god, they are really together?” Someone hisses through their breath and it sounds like someone from her class that she doesn’t really socialize a lot and both Dean and her grin into the kiss when they heard it.

“You’re stealing my thunder, Dean.” Y/N laughs, braces her hand on his firm chest and pushes him away a little.

“‘M sorry.” He chuckles, brushes over his lips with his thumb, checking if she left lipstick traces on them. “I overheard a girl telling her friend that she wants to call me daddy and wants me to wreck her pu—”

“—Oh my god,” She huffs out, clasps a hand over her mouth for a brief moment, “Please tell me you didn’t say anything weird.”

Dean shrugs, “I winked at her and she ran away.”

Y/N rolls her eyes, “I guess it’s time to go home before you scare all the people away.”

“Awe, come on, not everyone!” Dean wraps his arms around her, pulling her closer. “Only girls who bite off more than they can chew.”

“Did I bite off more than I can chew, too?”

“Oh,” He pecks her lips. “You can chew perfectly and swallow it all down too.”

She groans with an eye roll, making Dean laugh out loud.

  
  
  
  


***

  
  
  
  


“This will be our last meeting.” Y/N says as Linda sits down on the bench next to her. 

“Yes.” Linda agrees. “It just pains me that I’m not able to say proper goodbye to you.”

“I still have your number.” 

“But I won’t have yours.”

“Don’t worry, I’ll contact you if I will need you to bail me out.” Y/N jokes but Linda’s not laughing.

Linda sighs, “Look, I know it’s us who make you do this, but you can still back out. I just want you to be absolutely su—”

“—I am.”

“Good.” Linda nods.

“One week, Linda. I’ll send you the details.”

“As soon as I have that, you’ll get the details for your part of the deal. All your records will be erased.”

“And you will give Dean a fair deal.”

Linda nods, “I promised and you signed the papers.”

“You won’t dig for other crimes. And it means that he can walk free.” She has to make sure, even if she already knows.

“You have my word. We’re concentrating on the corrupt mayor.”

“Good.” Then with the next breath she adds, “Anything new on Ketch?”

“No. Nothing. It’s like he disappeared from the earth.”

“I’m sorry I could be no help.”

“That’s okay, you have enough on your plate right now.”

Y/N parts with a courtesy nod, her eyes are teary. She’s never going to see the woman again who took care of her as if she was her own.

Back home, she starts on writing a letter, crumbles up each and every page she starts because there are just no words that she could write that would make him understand what she’s going to do. 

She abandons the letter pretty soon and instead, she draws. This time, she draws both of them. They’re in bed, with him holding her, the two cats snuggle up to them. She leaves the drawing by her bedside table.

  
  
  


***

  
  
  


Dean’s been in high spirit in the week that leads up to their coup. He’s away more often but he’s always in a good mood when he comes back.

Like tonight, when he comes home and waves a black manila folder in front of her face. “Take a look.”

“Will I find dead people in there?” Y/N asks suspiciously, “Because I just had a big bar of chocolate and I don’t think my stom—”

“—Jesus, just take a look.” He laughs.

Bubbles sits on her lap and she has to readjust to look at the folder without disturbing the cat. She opens it to find different pages of property listings. All of them are somewhere remote, with a huge backyard. The houses are different sizes, but they all have the same style. They’re mostly old and need a lot of renovating and they are spacious. They’re also all fairly priced. 

One of them she really likes, it has four bedrooms, a big attic and there’s a porch that goes around the house. It also has the old style window shutters which she guesses it’s more for decorative reasons. The house used to be white but the paint is coming off. Also the shutters used to be dark blue but the color’s been washed off as well. On the next page she sees the aerial picture of the house. The backyard is a huge meadow, dropping down to what seems like a large pond. 

Dean has since leaned over the sofa and watches her as she looks through the pages and then he asks, “What do you think? You like it?”

“Yeah,” She replies. “They’re all beautiful. They need a lot of work, though.”

He shrugs, “I’ll have time.” Then he adds, “Which one do you like best?”

She feels guilty and doesn’t really want to choose, if she’s honest. “I can’t choose.”

“Come on,” He smiles and it’s genuine, she can see that, “I like this the best.” Dean points his index finger to the listing that’s also her favorite. The house with access to the pond and space in the backyard to hold their own music festival.

“Yeah,” She agrees. “That’s beautiful.”

He inches closer to her, his breathing a mere inches from her ear and she looks down at the listing, hoping that he doesn’t notice the flush of her face. “Can you imagine? Living there? I mean, with me?”

“Dean,”

“Not now, but if you can imagine it, I’ll buy it, fix the place up.”

“It’s not right for me to tell you what you should do with your money. If you want to buy something it should be because you want to and my opinion should not matter.”

“But it does to me.” He noses at her temple, kisses her there after.

“I know.” She mumbles and then she sighs and answers, not because she wants to but because it seems easier that way. “Yeah, I like that one the best, too.”

Dean grins from ear to ear. “Awesome.”

Thankfully they couldn’t talk about it more because Dean has gotten a call and has to go. He kisses her forehead, then her lips. “When this is all over, I’ll have more time, okay?”

“Okay.” She tries to smile.

  
  
  


***

  
  
  


Dean’s in his office, decides to spend the last night before the coup at home because he had the feeling that he was neglecting her, which he really didn’t but she guesses that he too could feel something coming up.

So instead of going out, he excused himself to make a video call from his office. “I’ll be in there for about two hours. If I should not come out by then, please come get me.”

“Why?”

“‘Cause I wanna spend the night with you.”

He gets up and adjusts his pj pants. She has to laugh, kind of hopes that the people in his video call would see his pants. Hopefully, he has to get up and get something and then someone who has some balls will call him out on it. 

  
  
  


*

  
  
  


Two hours came and went and Dean’s still holed up in there. 

She decides to go get him but she gets out of her clothes first, drops them along the way to his office and knocks twice before she goes in there naked.

Dean’s jaw drops when he sees her and for a moment she has to laugh because he just stares.

“Dean? You still listening?” 

She knows that voice. It’s Cas.

“Huh,” Dean looks back at his screen, “Yeah, I’m here.”

Y/N grins cockily and lowers herself to her knees, crawls under Dean’s desk.

She’s kneeling below the desk and places her hand on Dean’s knees, pushing them apart and she looks up to see Dean still staring at his screen, his lips between his teeth. 

He risks a glance down and looks at her grumpily before he rolls his eyes but he doesn’t stop her as she works her hands up his thighs. She hooks her fingers into the waistband of his pants. He even helps her, lifts his ass so she can push the pants down to his knees.

“Yeah,” Dean clears his throat. “We should go through the timelines again one last time.”

She grins as she kisses the tip of his dick, it’s already half hard and she hasn’t done anything yet.

“Tomo— holy!” Dean shouts as she takes him into her mouth and sucks him. “Sorry, the cat.” Dean apologizes and then he goes on. “Anyway, tomorrow our trucks will leave an hour earlier than the train.”

She gobbles him down, tries not to make a choking sound.

Dean has a poker face but one of his hands comes down, strokes her cheek as she looks up at him with her mouth full of his cock. 

Taking it out, she holds his dick up, works her tongue on his balls and goes deeper to his rim. He leans back a little, giving her more access. 

“Ffff,” Dean hisses through his teeth before he asks a question into his screen. “Everyone knows when they have to be where, right?”

There’s a lot of  _ Yes _ and  _ Yeah’s _ in reply to Dean’s question. “1.30AM the train’s gonna leave.”

Cas takes over and she’s back at licking and sucking him and even though he shouldn’t, Dean’s stealing a glance down at her, licking his own lips as he sees her sucking at his cock his hand takes the strand of hair that has fallen into her face and tucks it back behind her ear.

“Thirty-six hours, gentlemen. Thirty-six hours from the start to the finish line.” Dean says and she knows that he means that it’ll take thirty-six hours for the last truck to reach its final destination and from there on, it gets loaded into other vehicles but that won’t be Dean’s concern anymore.

“We’ll work in shifts to track everything,” Dean goes on and she tickles the head of his cock with her tongue, making him pause to take a breather. When Dean has himself under control, he goes on. “I want everyone holed up in the bunker. And I swear if someone screws this up, he won’t live to see the end of those thirty-six hours.” The last syllable came out as a little choked moan. 

“You okay, Dean?” Cas asks and she’s trying not to laugh out loud. Thankfully there’s a fairly huge cock in her mouth. 

“Yeah,” Dean looks down at her, his expression unreadable. “Anyway, gotta go, this cat is driving me crazy. I’ll see y’all tomorrow.”

He doesn’t wait for his men to say goodbye, instead he clicks on disconnect and slams the cover of his laptop down, his large hands grab at her arms, pulling her up and she has to let his dick pop out of her mouth.

Dean places her on his lap so she’s straddling him and he lays his forehead on hers. “You’ve been a naughty little kitten.” He mumbles and kisses her, his arms wraps themselves around her middle. 

“You said I could come get you.” She says as they part and Dean chuckles.

“Not like that.”

“Well, did you not like it?” Her arms are around his neck, and she nibbles at his ear, sucks in his earlobe.

“Love it.” He says and then he lifts her up a little, “Put it in before I’m dying here.”

She giggles as her hand finds his throbbing cock, positions it below her pussy and sits down. She moans out in pleasure and throws her head back when she feels him filling her.

Dean takes the opportunity, leans forward to suck at her throat, kisses down to her chest.

He lets her choose her own pace, kisses her and talks to her like he always does. It’s nothing hard and fast this time. It’s slow and sensual — love making, not fucking. Dean takes her nipple into his mouth, sucks at them, making her arch her back. He praises her, tells her how beautiful she looks when she comes on his cock. It gets slippery and wet and she’s sure that the chair needs some serious cleaning after. 

It’s good, so good and she cries into the next kiss. 

Dean comes deep and hard. Holds her close and stays like that for a long time. “I love you.” He whispers and she buries her face into the crook of his neck. 

He’s about to move when she tells him to stay like this. “Just a while longer, please.”

He relaxes in the chair, letting her lay her head on his chest as he trails his fingertips over her back, traces along the bumps of her spine.

“Come on,” Dean says, and turns his chair around, gets up with her still in his arms and her legs wrapped around his middle. She cringes as his soft dick slips out with a squelch. 

Dean kicks off his pj pants as he proceeds to walk out of his office. 

“Where are we going?” 

“Taking a bath.” He says with a bright smile but then he notices the trail of clothes she left behind. “And then we clean up the mess.”

She laughs against his throat where her face is still buried.

  
  
  


***

  
  


Y/N zaps through the channels while Dean paces around the apartment, he’s on the phone as always. Understandably so, as tonight’s the night.

He hangs up, fetches his overnight duffel and walks over to her, takes his time to sit down and she abandons the remote, climbs onto his lap. It has become her favorite place throughout the months.

“What’s your plan?” Dean asks and she knows he means for the time he’ll be gone which will probably be around forty hours from now on.

“I don’t know, the usual, class, eat, sleep, repeat.” She lies.

“Just no partying when I’m not here, okay?” He has that amused look on his face.

“Yes, daddy.” She grins cockily and he kisses her.

It’s soft and she likes that but it always leaves her wanting more so she goes in, kisses him hard. She closes her eyes, thinks of the things they’ve done, thinks of him and her, thinks of what could never be. She pours everything she has into the kiss. A kiss that says so much. She kisses him, wants him to feel that  _ she’s sorry, she doesn’t mean to _ and most of all, she wants him to know that  _ she loves him _ .

She cries into the kiss too, making Dean stop to cup her face, brushing away the tears with his thumb. “Hey, you okay?”

“Yeah,” Y/N sniffs, “Just worried.” Another lie.

He kisses her forehead, letting his lips linger there for a fraction longer than he normally does. “Don’t be.” 

His fingers skim down her face, and he kisses between her eyebrows, kisses her nose. “Will you be here when I get back?”

She nods. 

Yet, another lie.

Dean smiles. “Good, I got something to tell you when I’m back.”

  
  
  


*

  
  
  


She texted Linda about the intel and in turn, Linda has texted her things that she need and a comfortable amount of money was left on her bank account for a head start. 

Y/N packed one backpack with essentials and left everything else, as well as her car, with Dean. 

She walks out of the building, walks to a bus stop that’s more than four miles away and gets into the next bus that arrived. She doesn’t have a plan, she just needs to get out of the city.

Y/N goes into the store in between buses, buys another phone card and drops her old SIM into the trash can outside.

And then she’s off. Doesn’t really know where to go. Doesn’t know what to do but she’s sure that it’s the right decision. At least one of them can be happy and she’s taking the fall. She wants Dean to be able to have the future he desires, one he’s working so hard for — because if Dean doesn’t deserve happiness, no one else really does — even if it means that she’s not part of it. She hopes that one day he’ll see it. Hopes that one day, he’ll forgive her. But most of all, she hopes that he forgets her. 

  
  
  


_____________________________

  
  
  
  


The freight train has been stopped midway, as they predicted it would. But the trucks got over four States by the time and split in all different directions already. That’s a win that Dean takes. 

The train conductor doesn’t have a clue about anything, and the wagons are all empty, so that shouldn’t be a problem either. 

Now they have to wait until all the trucks have reached their destinations.

He texted Y/N after the train got stopped by the Feds but she didn’t answer. He doesn’t dwell on it, thinks that she must be busy so he sits back, and waits with the others, hoping and maybe even praying a little that everything goes as planned. Paints a picture in his head how he would get a Pizza on his way home, how he’s going to tell her that everything he worked so hard for finally fell perfectly into place. 

Dean imagines the time after. Thinks that he’s going to blindfold her and drive her out to the house he bought. Get on his knees right there. He thinks of the words he’s going to say when he wants to persuade her to marry him, hopes that he will get a word out of his mouth at all. 

  
  


*

  
  
  


“It’s done.” Cas says as he gets off the phone and there’s silence for a full minute because nobody thought that they could pull that shit off. 

And then realization hit and it’s like  _ Holy shit we did it! _ They shook hands, shoulder bumped, fist bumped and Inias walked in with a dozen beers.

Dean stays and drinks the beer, not because he wants to but because it’s expected from him. But then he excused himself, told his men that he’ll be in touch for a last meeting, already breaking into a run up the stairs of the bunker. 

At home, he parks his car next to hers. So at least she’s home.

“Honey, I’m home!” He calls but realizes that the lights are all off. One the cats came around to greet him.

Dropping his keys into the bowl at the entrance, he walks into the bedroom but she’s not there either. He takes a look into the bathroom, thinking she might take a bath but it’s empty. 

The echoes of his steps on the hardwood floor is kind of disturbing to him. Something’s off. He can feel it.

He tries her art room next, nothing to see there either other than some unfinished paintings. 

On the way back into the living room, he tries calling her but the voice says that the caller can not be reached.

Dean rushes back to the living room, thinks about going out and tries her school when a sheet of paper flutters to the ground from the kitchen counter.

He picks it up, his heart is racing, his hands are shaking. He’s already near tears because he’s not an idiot, he knows it before he even read her words. He crouches down to pick it up and stays down to read it. Thinks that when he gets up, he’s gonna end up down on the floor anyway because his knees feel weak.

_ Dear Dean, _

_ I crumbled up so many sheets of paper because no word could express my feelings. No words could ease the pain I’m feeling. No words would be enough to explain my decision to you and make you understand. This is my last try because time is running out. And there’s really just one thing I want to say to you. _

_ I’M SORRY. _

_ I know that you might not accept my apology but I hope that one day, you will. _

_ Now that everything’s over, you can start all over. I wish you happiness Dean. You deserve nothing less. _

_ Y/N _

_ Ps. My love for you was and is real. Never doubt that. _

He balls his fists, making the paper crumble in his hand. 

He doesn’t know how long he stays down there but he wakes from his trance when Bubbles shows up next to him, nuzzles her face against him. One tear drips down the tip of his nose and Dean brushes at it with his hands. “Okay,” He sniffs, “Okay.”

Dean picks up Bubbles and walks her to the feeding dish where Cuddles was already waiting. He sits down with them and they look up at him as if they know what’s going on. 

Pouring their food into their dish, he sits with them, back leaned against the fridge and he waits until they’ve finished eating. Dean knows that he should be mad, should feel angry, should maybe drown himself in alcohol but he can’t bring himself to do anything at all. He feels so many things at the same time, hurt, anger, feels his heart breaking off bit by bit, feels nauseous, and he’s still shaking but above everything, he feels numb.

  
  



	34. Chapter XXXIV

**_..A YEAR LATER_ **

“A Lambo, Cas? Really?” Dean’s laughing as Cas shows him his newest buy. “I didn’t give you so much money to waste it on a Lamborghini!”

“Thank you! That’s what I was thinking too!” Anna chimes in, “We almost had a fight when he came home with that...thing!” Anna gestures at the car in their driveway. 

Dean’s invited for dinner at Anna and Cas. Right after Y/N left, Cas stayed behind for a bit because he was worried about Dean. It was hard to get out of the funk but Dean also mainly did it for Cas. He didn’t want his friend to be worried about him. Anna and Cas have moved out of the city, pursuing the happiness Dean still chases.

And now he’s here because Cas wants to go through the details of his wedding which will take place in two months and Dean is his best man. Dean couldn’t be happier, really. If anyone deserves a fairy tale ending, it’s definitely Cas. 

“Yeah, I know now that it’s a bad choice.” Cas calls out as Anna’s already making her way back inside to set up the table. He rolls his eyes when Anna doesn’t see but Anna shouts back, “Stop rolling your eyes!”

Cas then turns to Dean, “What do you really think of it?”

“I don’t know, Cas,” Dean says, takes a sip from the beer, “It seems over the top. I don’t think your dick is small enough to drive such a car.”

“Yeah, and now that Anna’s pregnant we should maybe get a family van.”

“What?”

“Yeah, you heard me.” Cas chuckles.

“Wow,” Dean huffs out, “Congratulations, man!”

“Thanks. I’m terrified, though.” Cas says, half smiling.

Dean has to laugh at Cas’ expression. “I can imagine.”

“And you? How are you?”

Not a question Dean likes to answer but he does because it’s Cas, “Good,” He says and takes another sip, “Yeah, I’m good.”

“Good.” Cas nods, but doesn’t say more and Dean appreciates that. “Come on, let's go eat.”

  
  
  


*

  
  


When they reach dessert, Dean’s phone vibrates but he doesn't want to be rude and pick it up until Anna asks him if he doesn’t want to take it.

Dean fishes his phone out of his pants and looks at the caller ID. It’s a number he doesn’t recognize. He looks at Cas and Anna and nods, stands up to take it in the hall. 

“Hello?”

After that, everything’s a blur. He feels nauseous and all he can answer is “Yes, I’ll be there as soon as I can.”

He goes back into the dining room, his hands are shaking and he breaks cold sweat on his forehead. 

He doesn’t even know what to do so all he does is stand there, his hands on the back of a chair, holding it real tight because if he doesn’t, he thinks he’ll fall.

“Dean, is everything okay?” Cas asks.

“Yeah, you’re a little pale.” Anna adds.

“Huh?” Dean grips at the chair, his knuckles are turning white. “Yeah.” Dean says but then he looks around, not sure what to do or say.

“Dean.” Cas stands up, is about to walk over to Dean.

“Y/N’s in the hospital Cas. Car accident.” 

“What?”

“Yeah, exactly.” Dean tries to smile, it doesn’t work.

“Will you go? Is she here in this County?”

“I-I...I don’t know. And no, it’s two hours from here. She’s still in surgery. They found my name as her ICE contact on her phone. Could just be that she forgot to change it.”

“You should go.” Cas lays a hand on Dean’s shoulder. 

“And tell her what?”

“Well, if you wait too long, chance is you might not be able to tell her anything at all.” Cas says and fishes a key out from his pants pocket. “Take the Lambo, it’s faster than your Baby.”

Dean chuckles, “Fuck off.”

“Now get out of my house, Winchester!”

  
  
  


*

  
  
  


_“Why did you leave?”_ Dean mumbles to himself as he goes through what he wants to say to her. There’s also, _“What are you doing now?”_ , _“Are you happy?”_ , _“Why did you think running away was your only option?”_ , _“Did you think I would have killed you?”_ and also there’s _“Did you really love me as much as I loved you?”_

He parks in the parking lot and runs in, almost knocking someone over. Dean gives his name at the reception and to his surprise, he was given the room number without further questions.

Dean takes the elevator, his heart’s thumping super fast in his chest.

The door to her room is open, there’s a nurse and a doctor helping her settle in. Dean feels a strong sense of deja-vu. 

“Mr. Winchester?” The doctor approaches him when he sees Dean.

“Yes,” Dean manages to say even though his throat feels dry.

“The surgery went well. She suffers from a trimalleolar fracture on her left side, meaning her ankle is fractured in three different places. There’s dislocating of her shoulder and some bruises.”

“How long does she have to stay?” Dean asks.

“When she’s awake again by tomorrow and wishes to go home, she can. They will need to check her before she goes and the police will need a statement.”

“Okay, good,” Dean says, he still doesn’t look at her, “Because she hates hospitals.” Dean adds.

“That’s understandable.” The doctor says and walks out of the room, leaving Dean behind.

And there’s really no going back now, he’s here and he has to face her.

Slowly, he walks over to her bed, there’s a drip going into her hand and her leg is elevated. A bandage around her arm, another bigger band aid on her forehead. 

“Shit,” Dean curses, and he gets angry, feels like punching something, but he’s not angry at her, never at her. Right now, he’s mostly angry at the guy who drove into her. 

For the first time in over a year, Dean lets his fingertip skim over her face, tucks in a strand of hair. She looks the same as she always does and that makes him angry too. She hasn’t changed and he was still not able to find her. 

He makes himself sit down in the chair, takes her hand and squeezes it before he places a kiss on her knuckles. He lets go, sniffs once, pinches the bridge of his nose, tries not to cry.

Dean leans forward, rests his forehead on her arm, feels the warmth of her skin. “Baby,” he whispers and he closes his eyes.

  
  
  


*

  
  
  


The next day Dean’s back at the hospital as soon as visitor hours open. 

She didn’t wake up before the hours were over yesterday so he had to go home. She’s awake now, sitting on her bed, head propped up on the pillows, staring into nothingness.

Dean stops before he goes in, lingers at the door. His heart is beating stupidly fast.

Y/N tilts her head, flinches quickly before her gaze settles on him. “Dean?”

He exhales, feels like he’s been holding his breath since last night. “Yeah, it’s me.”

“How? Why?”

“I’m apparently your emergency contact.” He walks closer, sits down on the chair he’s been in last night.

“Oh, no.” She closes her eyes and clasps her hands over her face. “You shouldn’t have come.”

“Too late now.” Dean shrugs, doesn’t mean for it to come out as snappishly as it does.

“Look, I’m okay.” Y/N says and adds, “There’s no need for you to be here. I can manage.” 

“Can you?” He raises an eyebrow at her and his gaze falls on her broken ankle. “Go on, call someone else to come take care of you and I’ll leave you alone.”

He watches her purse her lips, watches her nibbling at her bottom lip and then she pouts and it’s not fair. It’s ridiculous how much he’d missed that fucking pout. 

She lets out a frustrating groan, and slams her good fist without tubes hanging out of it on the bed. 

Dean looks at her, amusement in his eyes. “I thought so.”

“I’m sorry.”

“I know, but let’s not talk about it. Let’s get you out of here first.”

“No,” She says, “I’m sorry they made you come out here. You must have more important things than being here.”

“That’s my problem, and not yours.”

“But,” She pauses before she adds, “thank you.”

Dean just nods and takes out his phone, thumbs through it and he doesn’t really know what he’s looking at but he knows that if he doesn’t occupy himself, he’s going to have to hug and kiss her because that’s all he really wants to do, and that’s not going to happen. Not now. 

“Don’t you,” She starts then stops and Dean looks up, sees the flush in her face and then she starts to speak again, “Don’t you have more important things to do than being here?”

Dean purses his lips, it’s not quite a smile but also not a sulk. “Would I be here if I had anything else to do?”

She stares at him, her forehead creases but then a police officer stands in the door.

He listens as she tells the policeman what happened (she left work at the library — so she works! In a freaking library too! The one place he doesn’t think to look!), a white truck drove right into her at an intersection (Dean’s still fucking angry at that driver — He can still make it look like an accident. But then he thinks, without the reckless driver, he probably would have never seen her again). The policeman took down her data, her address (a fucking two hours drive from his place!) and then he leaves and Dean is pissed. Not at her. Never at her. At his own futile attempt on tracking her down and at the guy who broke her fucking ankle. 

They didn’t have time to talk because her next check up is around the corner. They wheeled her out and he waits until she’s back and then they wait together in silence until she gets the all clear from the doctor.

She’s discharged with a shit ton of painkillers and needs to be back for a check up in six weeks. 

“Shit,” She mumbles.

“What?”

“I don’t have any clothes.”

Dean grins, “I got you.” He takes the bag he had with him which she didn’t even notice. Pulls out a shirt and her pj pants she left behind.

Y/N looks at the shirt. It’s another Led Zeppelin shirt from him, not the one that she used to wear. 

“I couldn’t find the other shirt.” Dean says as he notices her staring a little too long at the shirt he brought.

“Because I took it with me.”

“Ah.” 

Dean lets her change, turns around and looks out of the window. If she wants him out, she doesn’t say, accepts the little privacy he gives her.

“Done.” She says and he turns around, swallows hard because it’s a sight he never thought he’d see again. 

She gets a crutch and it takes them an eternity to reach the car, and in hindsight, he could have let her wait and walk to get the car and pick her up at the entrance but his brain is not really capable of thinking right now.

He pushes a button and the car lights up.

Suddenly, she starts to laugh out loud. 

“What?” Dean asks, trying not to laugh with her at the sound that makes his heart skip a beat.

“A Lamborghini? Seriously?”

“It’s Cas’ car. I was at his place when I got the call and he gave me the car because it’s faster than mine.”

“Oh good, because I was gonna say that your dick’s way too big to drive such a car.” She’s still laughing but then she realizes that she might have crossed the line and then she stops.

Dean didn’t mind, didn’t even think that it was insensitive, given the circumstances of what they aren’t.

“Sorry.” She apologizes.

“It’s okay.” He walks around, helps her get in before he settles in himself.

“So,” He says.

“So,” She repeats.

“Where do you want to go?”

“My apartment.” 

Dean raises an eyebrow and looks at her suspiciously. “Do you have someone who could look after you?”

Y/N lowers her head, looks down at her hands. 

“Good, my place it is then.”

“Bu—”

“—You shush. You can’t even walk or lift things. How should you do it alone?”

She shuts her mouth, knowing full well that Dean’s right.

  
  
  


_____________________________

  
  
  
  


The road begins to get familiar and Y/N notices that Dean drives to his apartment building. 

He parks in the garage and she notices that her car’s still there. Dean doesn’t say anything when he notices her seeing the car. 

Dean helps her out but instead of handing her the crutch, he picks her up and scoops her into his arms, carrying her to the elevator. She looks at him perplexed and he only shrugs, “It’s faster like this because you’re an awfully slow crutch walker.”

She doesn’t say anything, clings onto him and it makes her heart race. It’s the first time they’re so close.

He drops her off, to be able to open up the door but then picks her up again and carries her to the couch. Nothing’s changed. Her painting is still on the wall. Everything still looks like the day she left.

Y/N looks at Dean as he unpacks the painkillers and sorts them into piles of morning, lunch and evening. “You didn’t move?”

He turns around and looks pained. “I did.”

“Why did you keep this apartment?” The answer comes out before realization hits. “Oh,”

She still has a key to the apartment, and forgot to leave it behind when she disappeared. And then she has tears in her eyes. He really stayed here in the hopes that she’d come back? 

“Yeah.” Now he’s doing the freaky thing again where he reads her mind. “Never really gave up. Thought it wouldn’t hurt if I kept it and was hoping that you’d come and at least get your car. Guess I was fooled twice.”

“Dean,”

“Don’t,” He says and walks around to sit down, there’s a safe distance between them. “We can either pretend nothing happened between us and I’m just a friend. As soon as you’re better, you can leave, that’s up to you. No hard feelings, okay?” He pauses before he goes on, “Or we could address the big elephant in the room while you’re here, and at least get that out of our way to make it all a little more bearable. It doesn’t have to be now, or today, but we both know that we have to eventually — or at least I know that I want some closure. What do you say?”

“Okay,” She nods and when she wants to look at Dean again, Bubbles jumps on the sofa and nuzzles her face against her hand. “Hey, you,” She says softly before she looks around to see if Cuddles is walking around somewhere.

“He’s gone.” Dean mumbles. 

“Gone where?” She asks and then it hits, “Oh.” Now, she really has tears in her eyes. “Is it because of me?”

“You mean, you’re asking if you broke his heart so that he doesn’t have any will to live anymore and decides that he’s better off dead?” Dean chuckled darkly, “No, that’s probably only me. But seriously, he was an old cat, his liver gave out, couldn’t even eat properly anymore. I had to put him out of his misery.”

“You brought him to the vet?”

Dean frowns, “Of course I brought him to the vet to put him down, I’m not a monster, Y/N for fuck’s sake!”

It’s not that she doubts him, it’s… she doesn’t know what it is. She’s emotionally not stable at all. “I’m sorry,” She can’t help it, she’s full on sobbing. “So sorry.”

“Hey,” Dean moves closer, holds her face in the palm of his hand as he makes her look at him. “Look at me, sweetheart. Look at me. It’s not your fault, okay? Nobody saw it coming.”

She nods, but she can’t stop crying. “I should have been there.”

“Yeah, you should have,” He says drily, but adds in a softer voice, “But we don’t usually get what we want. It’s okay.”

“It’s not.” She whispers, “What are you doing, Dean? You were supposed to move on, get out and live a happy life. You were supposed to forget about me.”

And there it is, the chaste kiss on her forehead, while he still has one hand on the back of her neck. 

She’d missed that. 

She’d missed him. 

“I could never forget about you. Not even if I’d try.” Dean lets go of her, sits back up and clears his throat. She doesn’t look at him, can’t possibly do it. But the way he sniffles, he must have been crying too. 

“How are you feeling? Want anything to eat?” 

She doesn’t know what to answer about how she’s feeling, so she doesn’t and says, “No.”

“Okay, let’s get you to bed. You need to rest.” Dean actually doesn’t wait for her to protest, scoops her up and walks her to his bedroom. It used to be hers too. She wonders what changed. 

He tucks her in, levels her leg and then he leaves, telling her that he’s preparing her pain meds. 

Y/N looks at her bedside table, her heart is doing some weird things when she sees that nothing had been moved. Her hair tie is still there. The book she started to read. His cheesy card that she propped there. But then she notices something. The drawing of them together with the cats is gone. 

Dean comes in and holds out two pills, drops them into her palm. She downs them with the bottled water he gives her. “Do you need anything?” 

_You_ , she wants to say but doesn’t. 

She hates that he does that. By _that_ she means looking at her as if he tries to read her mind. 

“No, thanks. I just feel tired.”

“Yeah, rest. We can talk later.” He walks out of the room but leaves the door open and she knows why. He’s afraid that he won’t hear her if she needs anything. 

  
  
  


*

  
  
  


She falls asleep soon after taking the medications and wakes up again to Dean walking into the room with a tray of food. He puts it at the end of the bed to help her sit up before he places the tray in front of her and proceeds to sit next to her on the bed. 

“I don’t have a lot of food at home nowadays. And I didn’t want to leave you and since I don’t have anyone to boss around anymore, you gotta make due with it. So, have a Winchester Delight, which basically consists of all the things I could find that are still edible.”

Y/N drives her fork into the mess. There’s no other word for it. It smells good, though. So it must be good too. She’s not even that hungry but she knows that she needs to get something in her belly if she has to take so many pain meds. 

Dean watches her fork up a little and puts it in her mouth. She chews and she looks over, sees him holding in a laugh.

“It’s awful.” She swallows the one little bite but lets her fork drop into the plate.

“I know.” He’s full on laughing now. “I’m sorry, you don’t have to eat it. I found Ramen, and already made it. Just wanted to see your reaction.” 

She rolls her eyes. He’s a fucking kid. Always have been, always will be.

He takes the plate and disappears, comes back with Ramen and she welcomes the warm soup. 

Afterwards while Dean’s out cleaning the kitchen, she gets up, needs to go pee and brush her teeth. It’s already late and she just took two more painkillers. The crutch is right next to her bed so she takes it, but then she forgot that she’s not supposed to put weight on her ankle and of course she has to fall. 

She’s angry at herself. Angry that she can’t even do a simple task of going to the bathroom on her own. Angry that her ex-boyfriend has to help her do the simplest of things. 

“Jesus, Y/N, you okay?” 

Of course Dean heard it. 

“I’m fine.” She says, attempts to get up but fails. 

“I can see that you’re fine.” He stands a couple of feet away, his arms crossed in front of his chest as he watches her trying to get up. “What did you wanna do?”

Y/N’s grumpy. “I need to fucking pee, I can do it myself, thanks.”

Dean walks to her, scoops her up, carries her to the bathroom and makes her stand right at the toilet. “Go on.”

“I need some privacy.”

“It’s nothing I haven’t seen before, but go off, I guess.” He turns himself around and plugs his ears up with his fingers. She rolls her eyes but she takes it. It’s still better than if he would watch her pee. Because that would be really creepy.

When she’s done, and Dean hears the flush, he turns around again, lifts her up and puts her in front of the sink. She can see that everything’s still there. Her brush, her toothbrush, her crazy amount of hair ties. She doesn’t say anything, though. Washes her hands and brushes her teeth while Dean waits with his head resting against the door frame. 

He carries her back to the bed after, tucks her in wordlessly before he slips out again. 

She lies awake even though she’s tired. It’s weird. Weird being back. Weird being here and in his bed. Weird having him looking after her when she’s been the one who ran away.

Dean comes in about an hour later, takes a shower and then he walks to the bed, slips in with her. “Is it okay if I sleep here? I just don’t wanna be far away if you need something during the night.”

“Sure, it’s your bed. If anyone shouldn’t be here, it’s me.”

Y/N hears him propping himself up, doesn’t really see it because it’s dark and she welcomes that they’re in the shadows. It makes everything easier.

“Don’t say that.” Dean exhales but doesn’t say anything else and the silence is killing her. It’s about another year (at least it felt like that) until Dean speaks, “Can I ask you something? I mean, can we talk a little? Are you up for it?”

“Okay,” She replies, because she knows that they eventually have to and what’s better than to get it over with. 

He tilts his head to her and she can see him squint, as if he’s trying to make out the shape of her face. “Why did you leave?”

She’s surprised by the question. “You didn’t find out?”

“Of course I did. I’m not a fucking idiot, Y/N,” Dean huffs out, “I… I just can’t wrap my mind around why you thought that running away was the only option you had.”

“Dea—”

“—Don’t _Dean_ me.”

She takes a deep breath before she speaks, “I betrayed you. I know what you do with people who betray you, even if you don’t want to, but you have to keep up the facade. And I was scared shitless. Not because I didn’t deserve what would have been done to me, but more because _you_ didn’t deserve it. I know that you did love me and I wanted to help you. I wanted you to be able to get out, have a life you really want. A life you deserve. So I made a deal.”

“What was the deal?”

“If they would catch you, they would have made a deal with you. One you would take because I know that you would. You’ll be able to walk free, everything against you would have been dropped, but for it to happen, I had to go away. They didn’t want me to interfere with them catching you because I could jeopardize their operation.”

“Nothing happened. They didn’t find out. Because you already made sure of that. You already helped me.”

“I couldn’t take that chance! Even after all the information I gave them, there was still a chance that they would catch you and if they knew that it was me all along, they would not offer you the deal. So I went away before they could even find out.”

“You took the easy way out, Y/N.”

“What did you expect me to do? Sit here and wait until they get you? Watch as they destroy your existence? You were too important to me.”

“You know,” Dean exhales audibly, “I thought that it would take me a long while to put two and two together but no, I got it straight away. I thought back to our conversations, played them over and over in my head. And then I realized that I chose to ignore all the red flags. I realized that I deliberately chose to ignore all the red flags that have been thrown at me because I wanted to hold on to that happiness I felt in my heart. I have never been as happy as when I was with you.”

She’s crying by now and she knows that he is too, from the way his voice gets softer and starts to vibrate.

“I’m sorry.” She says, because it’s the only thing she can say, the only thing she can think of. “Like I wrote in that letter. I hope that one day you will be able to forgive me.”

“Oh, I forgave you a long time ago, Y/N. I forgave you immediately after I read the letter.” He clears his throat, then he goes on, “The question is if you can forgive yourself. And I want you to, I really do. Maybe we can work on that, too while we’re at it. I don’t hold a grudge against you. I was never angry at you. I was angry at myself for not seeing it sooner. But then again I was asking myself what then? What if I saw it sooner? Would I have left you? Would I have locked you out of my life? Or worse, would I have killed you?”

She swallows the lump in her throat that’s building up with every word he says. 

“But the answer’s always no. I could never have done any of that. Not after you’ve helped me. Because after all, you’ve kind of picked me up from a dark place and gave me something to look forward to. It’s not only that, but you also saved my life. Twice. And it was you who suggested the trucks, you always helped me, and sometimes you knew that you were helping me, but most of the time, you didn’t. You made life better, more enjoyable, you cured my nightmares. It’s you. It has always been you.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Can you do me a favor?” Dean asks and he lies down, turns to the side to look at her. 

“What?”

“First of all, you’ve got to stop apologizing,” He says and helps her adjust by taking the extra pillow away from her head so now she’s lying comfortably too. 

“Okay.”

He flashes a smile, it’s dark but she can still see the white of his teeth. 

“Let’s sleep, you must be exhausted.” He whispers now, his hand skims along her cheeks, as if he still doesn’t believe that she’s real. 

He didn’t dare to touch more of her than he really has to. And she knows that he’s giving her space. Because after all, she’s the one who left and even though she told him not to, he took her home and pushed himself back into her life. 


	35. Chapter XXXV

Dean wakes with his arms around her. It’s his subconscious acting out. It’s like his body is drawn to her over night, he can’t keep away, even if he wants to. And last night was hard. Really hard. It was hard to tell her all those things without touching her, kissing her, holding her. 

She stirs underneath his arm that’s draped over her. She’s awake and he wonders for how long. Wonders why she didn’t say anything. 

His face is right in the junction between her shoulder and her neck. He breathes in and it doesn’t smell like her. It still smells like sterile disinfection and hospital. 

“I’ve missed you.” He says then, because it’s true.

One of her hands comes up to stroke at his arm. He can feel the hair on it standing up, little goosebumps spraying over his body. 

“I missed you, too.”

It’s the little words that makes his heart race and that’s fucked up, he thinks. He’s been mulling over her for a year, had painted all the scenarios in his head for when he might be seeing her again but this was never in one of them. It feels easy, as if she’s never left.

“Did you mean it? What you said in the letter? You loved me?” The question has been nagging at him for over a year and although Dean thinks that she couldn’t have possibly only said it because she was told to. It felt real. What they had in that short time, it felt fucking real to him. 

“Every word I said, that was me. I loved you, Dean. With all my heart.”

Dean takes his arm and puts it below the covers, his hands go underneath her shirt, he just needs to feel her. Skin on skin. He strokes his palm over the flesh of her stomach, leaves it there. 

“I searched for you.” He says then. Even though she didn’t want him to. “I got Ash to dig out your name, nothing came up.”

“How did you search then?” 

“I went to places I thought you’d be, I just stopped a couple of weeks ago.”

“Why?”

“There aren't any places left that I haven’t checked.”

“I’m so—” She starts to say but then remembers that he told her to stop apologizing.

“You wanna know why I keep living here?”

“Because I still have a key?”

He chuckles lightly, “Yeah, that. And also because I wanted you to have somewhere familiar to come back to.”

She lays a hand over his on her stomach. “Nothing’s changed.”

Dean swallows and lays his forehead on her shoulder. “I couldn’t bring myself to throw things out.”

“How did you sleep?” She asks and Dean knows that it’s his weak spot. He’s never had a decent night’s sleep since she left. 

“I usually don’t.” Dean admits, “Most of the time I lay awake, thinking of the words you said, the way you looked. Thinking about the things we laughed about, the silent moments we shared. And when I finally fall asleep, I wake up again.” 

“Nightmares,” She mumbles.

“Yeah,” Dean sighs.

Y/N wants to turn around but then he sees her flinch. The pain must be kicking in and maybe it already did for a long time and he just lies here and wants to enjoy the morning while she’s hurt. How stupid of him. 

“I’ll get your meds.” He almost jumps out of bed, and maybe she said something, he doesn’t know. His heart is doing weird things again and the steady beating of it fills his ears.

  
  
  


*

  
  
  


He moved her to the couch later and went for a groceries run. He didn’t wanna go at first, wants to call Bobby to bring him something but then Bobby would see her and Dean’s not ready yet. Not ready for Bobby to tell her how Dean’s really been after she left and not really ready to share her with anyone but Bubbles for the time being. He might be selfish, but he doesn’t know where this is going. If it’s going anywhere at all, and therefore prefers to keep her to himself just a while longer.

When he’s back, she’s still on the sofa, but she’s sleeping, with Bubbles curled up next to her. She has her head on her arm, which is hanging from the couch. He drops his groceries on the counter and walks over to her, crouches down and tucks a loose strand of hair that fell down and covered her face back behind her ear. She stirs and lifts her head. She’s drooling a little too, Dean tries not to laugh. 

“You’re back?” She opens her eyes when she notices him looming over her.

“Yeah, you hungry?” 

“A little.”

“Good,” He stands back up, walks over to the counter and starts to put the things in place. 

She sits back up and looks over the couch. “You look different.”

He raises an eyebrow at that. “How?”

“It’s just,” She starts to say and pauses before she goes on, “You’re not wearing suits anymore. I have never seen you in jeans. You look… different.”

“I hope it’s a good different.” 

Y/N grins, “Yeah.”

He can feel the warmth in his cheeks, and turns around because he doesn’t want her to see it. 

  
  
  


*

  
  
  


Dean made spaghetti. He hasn’t cooked for himself for months and so he did the only thing he knows he can’t really mess up. 

They sit down at the dinner table and it’s awkward, at least for him because he knows what happened here. How he had spread her out and ate her out. How she asked him at this very table if it was okay when she called him daddy during sex. He doesn’t know if she still remembers it but by the blush in her face when he suggested that they could sit down and eat at the table, she probably remembers it too. 

After the first couple of bites, Dean asks, “Why me?”

And that’s when she knows that they are talking about it again. It will probably take them a couple of sessions to talk everything through but Dean needs that. Needs to know everything before he can move on. 

He didn’t even have to elaborate on the question. She knows what he’s talking about right away. 

“Because of your dad.”

“My dad?”

“Yeah,” Y/N says, “Your dad killed my dad. You remember the big explosion that killed John? He killed my father first, put a bullet through his brain before the whole building blew up.”

Dean nods, it was the day his life changed forever. “So you were after me because my dad killed your dad ?” 

“My dad was with the Feds, he’s the only person I still had. My life changed that day. I abandoned my art studies, frankly, I have barely started, and changing a major was less hard than I thought it would be, and instead, opted for history because that’s a skill I would need at the FBI training academy. I joined them right after, worked my ass off to be where I was. All I wanted as revenge. It fueled my life.”

“Understandable.” He shrugs, “So then you tried to get to me by working in the bar.”

“Pretty much, yeah.” She’s twisting her spaghetti around her fork. “And I was dead set on exposing you until you made me fall in love with you.”

“I picked you and you picked me back. That’s how it was.”

“If you wanna put it in an unromantic way, yeah.” She grins. 

“What did you do after I left?” It was her turn to ask and Dean can’t just not answer because she’s answered every question he asked. 

He swallows down the bite of spaghetti and raises an eyebrow. “Do you wanna know the truth or the story I tell people when they ask how I coped when you left?”

“The truth.”

“Thought so,” Dean drops his cutlery and leans back in his chair, his hands play with the edge of his glass of water. “I told you that I forgave you. That’s true. Also the not angry part was true. I didn’t even wanna drink. It was weird. One moment, I had everything, the next, that everything ran away with a fucking note saying that she’s sorry.” 

She’s dropping her fork and stares at him. 

“I holed myself up in here, called Ash and put pressure on him to dig something up. I couldn’t imagine that you haven’t left a single trail. But you’re good at what you're doing so I guess, joke’s on me. I don’t think I left the apartment for the first week or even two, I don’t really remember. I wanted to be here should you change your mind. Sam had to literally come in and make me get a shower. Cas dragged my ass out for the final meeting I was supposed to have. After that, they let me go back into sulking but I didn’t want to anymore. I wanted to find you.”

“So everyone did get out.”

“Yeah, I’m out and so is everyone else.”

“That’s what you wanted.

“Not at any cost.” Dean doesn’t feel like eating anymore so he takes his plate and takes it over to the sink. “Eat up so you can take your pills. And then we take a bath.”

“A what?”

He smirks at her, “You heard me.”

“Dean, I’m wearing a cast.”

“Plastic bags and duct tape” He says, waving it around in his hands.

  
  
  


_____________________________

  
  
  


Dean wraps three bags around her ankle-cast, just to be sure that it’d be sealed properly, and uses a crazy amount of tape. Y/N can be happy when her leg is not going to be attached to the tape when he’ll tear it off at the end. She doesn’t say anything, lets him do it. He frowns in concentration and there’s the little tongue peek, resting on the corner of his lips. She studies him more, sees that he’s tanned a little more, the freckles standing out on his face. She realizes that she’d miss them, too. 

After Dean finishes, he scoops her up and carries her to the bathroom, sits on her on the closed toilet lid as he prepares the bath. 

And then he begins to strip himself and she’s baffled because they haven’t reached that stage yet. She doesn’t know if she’s ready to see him naked. Well, of course she’d like to, but like, it feels weird because they haven’t talked things through, yet. He leaves his underwear on, though, before he comes up to her, helps her stand on her one good foot. She grips at his arms for balance.

“Can I take off your shirt?”

He’s still asking. Like he always did. He’s still the same Dean, who is ready to back out anytime she would say no. It doesn’t surprise her.

She nods and then he smiles, takes a step closer and places both her hands on his shoulder. They’re still firm and broad and her face is right where his neck meets his chest and she sees that little mole that stands out from the rest of his freckles. She loves that mole. Would run her tongue across it when she kissed his throat.

His hands strokes down her back, grabs the seam of her shirt and pulls it over her head to the front. She only has to move her hand one by one to get the shirt off. It feels weird to be shirtless with him so close.

Dean takes his time, looks down at her and she can see that he’s staring, before he realizes that he needs to move on, and pretending that seeing her doesn’t throw him off balance.

“Can I?” He asks, his finger pulling at the elastic waistband of her pj pants. 

Y/N nods. 

“Okay,” He breathes out, “Okay, hold yourself up.” He crouches down, and she places both hands on his head to balance herself. 

Dean hooks his fingers through her panties too. Pulls them down and then he makes her sit back on the toilet lid so he could take the pants off her legs. She feels exposed, covers herself with one hand and Dean chuckles at that.

“Sweetheart, it’s nothing I haven’t seen before.” 

Yeah, that might be true, but still.

He runs back into the bedroom, puts all her clothes into the hamper before he comes in again and lifts her from the lid. Helping and walking her over to the tub, he sits her on the ledge while he bends down and turns off the faucet. 

Dean then pulls down his underwear, and she’s not looking, turns her face the other way which prompts him to laugh. “That’s also nothing you haven’t seen before.”

“Yeah, still.”

He gets in first, and then holds out a hand for her to take. When she’s close enough, he’s lifting her in like she weighs nothing and she’s careful to leave her injured leg on the ledge.

She leans back, feels a little weird to be open like that with her legs spread, but Dean’s also right, it’s nothing he hasn’t seen before. She dares to rest her head on his chest and she can hear his heart beating fast. 

It’s somehow a relief.

It’s not just her, then. 

She could also feel something hard poking at her back.

“You’re hard.” She says bluntly. 

“Yeah, well, that always happens around you, you should be used to it.” He answers and it sounds like it’s no big deal, and maybe, yeah, it shouldn’t be. 

Dean hands her the loofah so she can wash herself while he washes her hair. It strangely feels like it always had. Like there was not a year between them, well, apart from the awkwardness of them not really daring to touch each other because they don’t know where they’re standing with all the tension still around them. 

He rinses her hair out with a cup he brought into the bath, he really had thought this through and she’s not surprised because that’s what he always did. He always thought ahead like that, because not thinking ahead was a weakness and Dean Winchester couldn’t allow himself to show any weaknesses. 

They lie together for a while longer, with Dean stroking her thighs, her arms. He doesn’t touch anywhere where she was not ready to be touched. Even though she’s aching down there and she kind of wants it. Wants to be touched. Especially by him. But she also knows that they still have some open therapy sessions before they can get remotely close to where they left off. Because that’s what they feel like, the talks. Therapy. Where they would throw in a question and the other would answer truthfully, even maybe, if they really don’t want to know the answer, because they know that it’d hurt.

“Did you have anyone in the year that you were gone?” Dean asks the first question again. She can feel his heart beating just a little bit faster. She wonders what it matters, but answers anyway.

“No.” The answer is easy. She really didn’t.

“No?” He sounds surprised at that.

“Is that so hard to believe?”

There’s a huff of air and a little chuckle underneath her back, “A little, yeah.” 

“I wasn’t really looking to fall in love again, Dean.” She tells it as it is. “And you?” 

It’s weird that she asks, because she’d rather not know. She knows that Dean could have anyone. It was so hard to understand why he chose her in the first place. It’s not like she’s something special. The women she’s seen at those social gatherings were much nicer, more mature, prettier, sexier. She’s sure that the bed didn’t stay empty and she can’t lie, it hurts a lot, but it’s her own fault. Really can’t blame him for enjoying a warm body next to his when he felt lonely.

“I went on some set up dates by Sammy and the boys. But it didn’t really go well.” He says it like it is, “Then there was someone.”

Her body went rigid and she thinks Dean feels it, too. She doesn’t want to, honestly, but she doesn’t have control over her feelings right now.

He goes on, and she couldn’t tell him to stop, couldn’t possibly tell him that she doesn’t want to hear about the woman because it kills her a little on the inside, “She lived in this building, rented out from me and she broke her dishwasher. I first tried to fix it myself. Couldn’t do it, though. Then we got to talk and went out. I thought it was okay, she was alright and she was a welcoming distraction from you. It lasted a whole three weeks, too. I told her that I had a hard break up to work through and I couldn’t give her my whole heart, because you ran away with a huge part of it, and she was okay with it. And it was really okay at first, until she began to get a little uncomfortable.”

“Uncomfortable? After three weeks already?” She tilts her head back to ask and he shrugs.

“My bullshit radar must have made a dive since you left.” He shrugs some more, and adds, “She actually asked me why we never meet in my apartment.”

“You didn’t?”

Dean chuckles, “No. That’s ours. You’re the first and only one who I took home, the only one who I wanted for to stay and never leave.” 

The _ours_ hit her harder than she thought it would.

“Besides,” He says, “Have you seen the apartment? She’d have asked questions. Questions I wasn’t ready to answer because I didn’t feel like I owed her an explanation.”

“Ah,”

“And then she kept tabs on me after the first week already. Wanted to know why I drive out daily and come home late when I don’t have to work.”

“Where did you go?”

Dean takes the floating loofah and starts to brush it over her shoulder, up her neck, “You remember the house? I bought it. I’m renovating it whenever I can.”

“On your own?”

She can literally feel him smile, even if she doesn’t see it.

“Yeah, nowhere near finished, though.”

“Does she still live here?” She doesn’t really know why she asks. Feels stupid because it hurts.

He huffs out a breath, his hands warm on her skin as he begins to massage the nape of her neck. “No. She moved out quite quickly when she saw that we didn’t have anything in common after all. We loved different things and I think she didn’t get my humor.”

“Nobody gets your humor.”

“Hey!” He laughs, “I’m hilarious.”

She chuckles and lets him massage her shoulder, flinching a little when he touches the one that’s still healing. 

After a while she asks, “What did she love?”

“I think she quite loved the idea of a millionaire who could give her everything she wants and needs. She thought it was super nice not having to work, and already asked me if I didn’t want to take a trip with her and see the world. I literally had to tell her to calm down because I barely knew her.”

Y/N chuckles at that. Yeah, that would freak her out too. 

She takes the loofah and squeezes it over her arm, “And what did you love?”

Dean lowers his face to her shoulder, places a soft kiss on her skin, leaves his lips there, “You.”

His hands come around her in the warmness of the water and hug her tightly, blanketing her in and her heart is beating out of her chest.

“She’s wrong, though.” She whispers.

Dean lifts his head, kisses the place behind her ear. “What?”

“You’re a billionaire.”

Dean laughs at that and it’s a nice sound. It vibrates through his body, she can feel it on her back.

“Did you guys… you know.” It came out as a mumble, she’s not even sure if he heard it, neither is she sure why she asked.

But Dean just holds her a little tighter, leaving his chin on her shoulder, “Promise not to laugh?”

“Cross my heart.”

Dean releases his arms around her, leans back and takes the warms of his body with him. “This might come as a surprise, but I didn’t. I first wanted to, but I couldn’t get hard and then I thought something might be wired wrongly in my head because I didn’t feel like I needed to be intimate with anyone after you left, which is so not me at all, and then I thought that if I maybe get to know her first, it’d work out. Turns out, it didn’t.”

“Why?” 

Again, why is she asking? She could kick her own ass.

His hand comes around her face, cups her chin and turns her head around so she would look him in the eye. His eyes are still as green as ever.

“Y/N, don’t you see it? Because she’s not you.” And then he makes her lean back further, comes up to meet her half way. Their noses touch and Dean skims his fingertips over her face, touching her so soft and gentle, as if he still doesn’t believe that she’s here. “Can I kiss you? I feel like I’ll die if I don’t.”

She looks down to his lips, nods at him, she’s unable to form words.

There’s a soft smile on his lips before they touch hers, and she lets him, welcomes the softness of them on her own, feels the roughness of his scruff, she’d miss the taste of him, the smell of him. 

She’d missed him.

Dean parts after, the back of his hand strokes her cheek, “Can you forgive yourself?”

Y/N nods, “I’m trying.”

“I want you to.” He says and traces his thumb along her bottom lip, “You know what I thought when I saw you lying there in the hospital?”

She shakes her head, there’s just nothing coming out of her mouth, even if she tries. She’s too overwhelmed.

“I hoped that life wouldn’t be so cruel to take you away from me again now that I’ve found you. I prayed to the one up there, or anyone who was listening that I’m not gonna let them take you away from me again. This time, I’m gonna fight harder. I’m gonna keep you, and I hope that you’d really let me.” 

“Dean?”

“Huh?” He lays his forehead on her shoulder and she cradles the back of his neck.

“I’m gonna say this one last time. I’m sorry.”

He chuckles, and lifts his head to meet her eyes, “I know you are.”

She starts to shiver. Only notices now that the water starts to run cold. 

“Come on,” Dean says, “Let’s get you out and into some warm clothes.”


	36. Chapter XXXVI

Dean never thought they could talk things out in such a short time. He thought it might take days but all it took was some cuddles and a warm bath. He should have known though, because Y/N ticks the same way he does. She’s simple, says what’s on her mind, asks the hard questions even if she doesn’t really want to know the answer. 

She’s shaking as he dries her off and carries her to the bed to help her dress in a fresh pair of pj pants, a shirt and one of his oversized sweater before he tucks her in. He threw a shirt over his own head, wears some fresh underwear and walks out to get her pills. He comes in, asks if she’s hungry but she wasn’t. It’s still a couple of hours until dinner time anyway. He slips into bed with her after, can’t really spoon her because of her ankle but he gets as close as possible, lays his head on her good shoulder and noses at her neck. 

He breathes in her scent and whispers, “You smell good again.”

Y/N laughs at that, “Thanks?”

He has to laugh too because he didn’t mean for it to come out like it did. “No, I mean, you smell like you again. I missed that.”

She has her hand in his hair, scratches his head and he can hear her steady heartbeat. 

“There’s something I want you to see.” He says, rolls on the bed and gets his phone off the charger, hands it to her wordlessly.

She takes it, a frown on her face.

“Look at it.” He urges her and she pushes at the button, making the phone light up in the dark.

It’s still the picture of her and Cuddles on his home screen. 

“Dean,” She whispers, “I—”

“0502” He says simply and she looks at him perplexed, frowns when she realizes what the numbers are for. 

She thumbs over the digits, punches in the code and when she unlocks it, she sees a picture of her which he once took while she was still sleeping. Hair a mess, mouth open. He thinks it’s cute but she wouldn’t agree. She doesn’t say anything though. 

“Open my call activities.” He whispers and she does, opens it and looks through it, he doesn’t have a lot of callers on there, so it’s not hard to see that there are 3,212 calls he made to her old number. 

Y/N has tears in her eyes and Dean brushes his thumb against her cheek before he goes on. He’s not going to stop now, wants to get it over with because he wants her to know. 

“Look at my messages.”

She thumbs around on his phone, and opens the texting app. Her hands fly to her mouth, covering it.

He nuzzles his nose against her shoulder as she looks through it. There are messages he sent to her old number, and it starts from the moment she walked out. She can’t possibly go through them all because the last one was only sent three days ago. He never stopped texting her, if sometimes only for him to say hi and that he’s missing her. 

She opens her mouth, “I’m—”

“—it’s okay.” He interrupts her.

He’s told her everything she wanted to know. Everything he thought was important anyway. And everything he told her was the truth either. He wished he knew about the FBI thing sooner though, but what good would that have been? If he could go back, he wouldn’t have changed a thing. Would still have loved her. Would have wanted to spend the rest of his life with her. 

Dean takes his phone from her hands and moves up a little, lays his head next to hers on the pillow instead, rests his forehead on her temple. “Are you staying?” His heart is beating fast as he asks the question, and is kind of prepared if she’d say no, although it would kill him but he’s not the one who wouldn’t let her go if that’s what she really wants. 

“If you want me to?” She asks, and it’s like music to his ears.

“Yeah,” He smiles, “I’d like that.”

  
  
  


***

  
  
  
  


Dean’s in the living room making breakfast when Sam knocks at his door. 

Dean let’s Sam in and immediately Sam senses that something’s different, because he grins so fucking idiotic and it makes Dean nauseous. That big ass sasquatch always knows when something’s up.

“How did your night go, huh? Wink wink nudge nudge.”

“Sammy, stop being so fucking creepy.”

“I see a pair of women's shoes at the door that’s obviously not your size, Dean, of course I have to be creepy!”

Sam walks in further and takes the cup of coffee out of Dean’s hand before he steals a strip of bacon from a plate. “You’re making breakfast for two, too! Guess she performed really well, that you let her stay.”

“Sam,” Dean growls, it’s a warning.

“I hope you used protection.” Sam’s taking another mouthful of bacon and washes it down with the coffee, “I don’t think you shouldn’t let people sue you for child support.”

“Sammy!” Dean didn’t mean to be so loud, placing his fingers to his lips as a way to warn himself. And then, softer, he says, “Y/N’s here.”

“What?” Sam shouts.

“You’re being loud!” Dean hisses.

“Sorry, okay,” Sam says and then he hisses too, “What? Where did you find her?”

“She was in a car accident. Messed up her ankle real bad. Long story short—”

“—Too late.”

“Oh, haha — shut up.” Dean mocks grumpily and goes on, “I was still her emergency contact on her phone and that leads us here.”

“Okay, fine, she’s here but have you talked it through? I hate to see you sad again, man.”

Dean smirks, “Don’t worry we talked plenty. She explained everything and I had my closure. I feel good. Haven’t felt this good in what?”

“A year.” Sam says drily.

“Yeah. She needs a lawyer to sue that son of a bitch who crashed into her car. You in?”

“Sure, send me the details because I gotta go now,” Sam knocks at the counter twice, “Was only on the way to the office, wanted to see how you’re doing. Is Y/N staying?”

“I think so, why?”

“Bring her around for dinner?”

Dean grins, “Sure.”

“Oh, that Lambo? Yours?”

“Cas. You wanna drive it?” Dean lifts his eyebrows in question.

Sam’s sending him a bitchface. “Nah, my dick’s way too big.”

  
  
  


***

  
  
  


A couple of days later, Dean got Sergei to check up on Y/N. The doctor still lives in one of his apartments, even though he too, got more money than he probably will need in his life. But Sergei’s always been a one weird creature of habit, maybe that’s why he didn’t want to move. And maybe it’s also because Dean lets him live here rent free. It’s the least he can do since Sergei helped save Y/N’s life.

She’s doing much better and they can now lower her pain meds intake. Which probably also means that she’s gonna be awake more and Dean considers that a win. It’s still going to be a little over five weeks until she can take her cast off, though.

Y/N’s workplace had called in to lay her off. She was a little sad about that. It’s not really like she needed the money because Dean has plenty. He could give her half and would still have more than enough left to last him a whole lifetime. He thinks it’s more because she really likes to work, likes to have a purpose in life and he gets that. He tried to cheer her up, telling her that if she wants, she can pick up drawing again and he can fund her own art gallery. His idea wasn’t well received. And by mentioning the art, she suddenly remembers the drawing she left on her bedside table and asked him where it was. He said it’s in a safe place because he doesn’t want to tell her yet, but the truth is, that he framed it and took it to the new house, hung it up right at the entrance so every time he would go in there, he’d see and be reminded what he’s doing it for. Never actually gave up on the idea of finding her again one day and showing her the house, even if at that time he wouldn’t be in the picture of her new future anymore.

One day, he’d tell her. But it’s still too early now.

Cas came by last night to exchange his Baby against the hideous Lamborghini. Thank fucking god because Dean was starting to feel very awkward driving a Lambo around town to do the simplest of things. Cas had asked to see Y/N but she was already sleeping. He promised to take her around once she’s better. Maybe Dean should start to make a list of all the people who want to see Y/N to keep track and not to miss anyone. 

Gabe called too, Sam had been talking, like the gossip girl he is, and Gabe is overly excited that she’s found. Gabe was the one who helped Dean search for her because he hated to see Dean in the state he was in. He said to Dean that it’s worse than after the time their camp had been destroyed in Afghanistan. Dean owes Gabe a lot and Gabe’s also the only one who still lives nearby. He never needed much and only took enough money from Dean to tie him over until he can find another job. More than money, Gabe needs distraction, he once told Dean. He doesn’t need money because money would bring him back to the habit that he wants to shake off. So, now, if Dean needs anything, he’ll contact Gabe. Gabe actually insists on it. 

Y/N comes out of the bedroom, wearing one of his shirts. Dean doesn’t know why she raids his side of the closet when she has enough clothes herself. But he doesn’t really mind. She’s wearing a skirt because it’s easier to get it over the cast. Dean absolutely hates how cute she looks with the oversized shirt and the frilly skirt. Hates it because it makes him want her in a way he doesn’t allow himself to want her. Not yet.

“I’m ready.” 

“Good.” Dean says and it came out grumpy but he’s really not. It’s just that her outfit does things to him and he absolutely hates that he likes it.

He takes the key and gives her a hand to walk to the door. She clutches one crutch on the other side. 

“Jesus, this will take forever.” He mutters under his breath and sweeps her off her feel, carries her over his shoulder while she’s holding the crutch.

“Dean!”

“I’m sorry, it’s just, I’d like to get back by tonight and not still _be_ here by then.”

She’s still over his shoulder when they get into the elevator and he sees their reflection in the mirror. He has his hand on her thigh and her skirt almost rides up to her ass. He turns his gaze down, doesn’t look. He carries her over to his car and they get in.

They’re driving to her apartment, moving things back to his place. Because it’s final. She’s staying. She really fucking stays.

Yesterday morning when he brought her a coffee to bed she looked at him and just smiled. Nothing else, just a smile. And her smile lasted an awful long while until he had to ask what’s wrong.

_“I’m staying.” She said. Nothing less, nothing more. But it’s enough for him to sit down and kiss her. He wanted to ask if she really meant it. If she really thought it through because if she stays this time, there’s no running away and he had made it clear that he’s not letting her go anyway. He didn’t ask though, didn’t feel the need to because he’s sure that she knows._

She lived in a rundown building. It's a studio apartment and it’s nothing like her last one. The staircase smells of piss and he’s sure that he saw some kids selling drugs at the corner of the street. It’s surely not a nice neighborhood. Her apartment is small, cozy and it’s a stark contrast to the outside world around the building. Still, it makes Dean mad. He’s angry that she had to live here for so long without him knowing. But he guesses that if the circumstances would have been different, if Dean would have come knocking, she wouldn’t have wanted to come home with him anyway. 

Sometimes, things need time to fall into place and letting her come back on her own might have been the best for the both of them.

He brought a big duffel because she said that there’s not a lot to take back anyway. There’s notebooks where she keeps her drawings. Some books, a laptop. She packs only the clothes she really likes and that’s it. It doesn’t even fill the whole duffel he brought with him. Gabe is going to come around to clear and throw things out sometimes later in the week.

Dean carries her and the duffel down the stairs, breathes relief that his Baby was still standing and waiting for him at the curb where he left her.

She rolls her eyes when she sees him talking to the car, telling Baby how happy he was to see her still here and ready to roll. 

“Oh, come on, it’s not that bad around here.” 

“Yeah, right. I saw someone exchanging his own grandma for drugs. It’s clearly not that bad.” Dean snorts and tells her to get in. 

They get home in time for dinner and pills. It’s only one pill now and it doesn’t make her mind as foggy as the ones before. She can even stay around and watch TV with him. He has his legs propped up on the coffee table, she’s leaning into him on the side and he wraps his arm around her. 

_It’s easy_ , Dean thinks. He welcomes the good feeling back into his heart. 

One step at a time. 

She falls asleep against him, so Dean scoops her up and walks her to the bed. He tucks her in and slips in next to her. And he’s able to spoon her now, her ankle isn’t hurting as much anymore. He breathes in, the familiar scent makes him light headed. 

“Thank you.” She whispers.

“You’re welcome?” He replies but doesn’t really know for what. Not that it matters.

She chuckles at that and Dean listens as her breathing evens out.

  
  
  
  


***

  
  
  


They’re almost at half time now and the skin underneath her cast starts to itch. She’s on the couch drawing when Dean walks in after he went out for errands. He looks over to see her poking around inside of her cast with a pencil.

“Stop that!” He shouts with his boss voice. It’s low and loud and she jumps up, almost dropping the pencil into the cast.

“It itches!” She whines and fucking pouts at him.

Dean unpacks the groceries, “I know but you’re gonna make it worse.”

Y/N lets out a frustrating groan and lets herself fall back on the sofa, her back hitting the leather with a thud. “This is ridiculous! This stupid cast is driving me nuts!”

“You’re driving me nuts!” Dean’s laughing. It’s easy how quick things progress with the two of them. How quickly they become comfortable with each other again. As if there was not a whole fucking year which separated them. He really missed that. Miss the silly arguments, the petty fights, miss someone who understands his humor. 

He pulls out a container of ice cream he just bought, gets out a spoon and walks over to where she's lying with her arm thrown dramatically over her face.

Dean sits down, digs into the ice cream — chocolate chip cookie dough, because it’s the one they both like and can compromise on. He’d rather have anything with peanut butter in it and she’s more of a coconut girl — and holds out a spoonful of ice cream out, waves it in front of her face. She still doesn’t see anything because of her arm.

“Y/N, come on, open your mouth.”

She doesn’t stir, “This better not be your dick, Dean, I’m angry.”

“What’s wrong with my dick?”

“It just doesn’t really make me feel better.”

Dean frowns and shoves the spoon into his own mouth, smacks his lips loudly as he eats it. “You contradict yourself because you used to say, and I quote, _your dick always makes me feel so good_.”

He actually wouldn’t know if it would still make her feel good because they haven’t done anything yet since she’s back. Just little kisses here and there and a lot of cuddling. Dean’s quite okay with that but it’s fucking hard to really stay away and he anticipates the day the cast will be off because maybe then she’ll be in the mood. He waited one year, what’s a couple of weeks longer, really. He just knows that it’ll be worth it and besides, he enjoys the thing they have as it is. _It’s not just about sex_ , he once told Sam, and it’s still true.

She opens her eyes when Dean takes another spoonful. “What are you? Oh my god I want ice cream!” She sits up, and moves closer, pushing her head through his arm that’s holding the container, so she basically headlocks herself. 

“What? I just told you to open your mouth but you didn’t want to.”

“Please?”

“Yeah, beg for it.” Dean smirks, digs into the container, scoops up a spoonful.

She pouts then and it’s not fair that it still manages to make him weak. He feeds her the ice cream and she smirks around the spoon.

They’re sitting and eating together when she suddenly asks, “Can I ask you something? I need advice from a friend.”

He smiles because he likes that. “Sure.”

“So, you remember my ex-boyfriend?” She starts and the mention of the word _ex_ hits him.

“Yeah, faintly.” He plays along.

“Yeah, do you think if I would try to get together with him again it would work out?”

Dean’s heart is racing stupidly fast. “I don’t know. Do you wanna?”

“I kind of do.”

“Does he want to?”

“I think so. He’s been taking care of me since my accident.”

Dean takes a spoonful of ice cream, an attempt to cool down his face. “Do you still love him?”

“I do.” It comes out fast. She didn’t even have to think about it. 

Okay, now his heart is doing the weird flip thing.

And then she adds, “I just don’t know if he still loves me like he used to. Or if he’ll be able to love me like that again. He’s been a great friend the last couple of weeks, though. I just don’t really know where we stand yet. I wanna try it again. Maybe if we try we could make it work? Taking one day at a time?”

Dean sets the ice cream down, pulls her against his chest, he’s sure she can feel how fast his heart is beating but he doesn’t even care. 

He kisses the top of her head, “Baby, I never stopped loving you. I would love you in any shape, any form, with any past and present, never doubt that.”

It’s the first time he dares to say _baby_ in front of her so she’d hear it, didn’t feel like it’s his place when they still haven’t figured out what’s next. But being able to say it again feels good. It actually feels great. Like it’s a word only fitting for her, apart from his car, obviously.

She cries into his chest, and it’s good, apart from the crying of course. It’s good to feel her close again. It’s good to be able to work towards what they were. It’s good to work towards what they will be.


	37. Chapter XXXVII

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you enjoy this chapter. Only two more left :(

It has been a month! A freaking month and the cast is annoying her to death! 

Y/N’s pacing around the apartment. She can be glad the apartment is so big that it takes her a couple of minutes to get from one end to the other because she’s also awfully slow with her crutch. She wants to go out, walk around and Dean promised to come with her but he’s busy on his laptop. She didn’t ask what he does, sure, she could take a peek because he’s just sitting on the sofa but she doesn’t want to intrude also because she’d hate it if he would look over her shoulder whenever she does anything. They both know their boundaries and that’s really great and all but she’s slowly growing antsy.

“Will you please fucking stop?” He groans out.

“I’m bored.”

“Ya think? Go be bored elsewhere! I would be done already if you wouldn’t fucking distract me all the time!” Dean gets up, sweeps her off her feet and carries her to her art room. “Here, paint.”

“I don’t know what I should paint!”

It’s his turn to groan out in frustration, “A fucking pig, I don’t know, just give me ten minutes!”

“But—”

Dean cradles her face, makes her look up at him. “Baby, I swear, I love you but your restlessness is driving me fucking nuts. I promised and I’ll come out with you but give me that, okay? Ten minutes is all I ask for. You’ll thank me later.”

She pouts and frowns, he kisses the pout away. “Thank you for what?”

“You’ll see.” He winks and closes the door to the room, leaving her to stew. 

  
  
  


*

  
  
  


Dean comes in a fucking thirty minutes later. 

She’s sitting on a stool and continues to paint, ignoring him deliberately. 

He stands here, back leaned against the wall, arms crossed over his chest. “What’s that?”

She’s not even close to finish painting the first layer and tilts her head back to him, looking at him grumpily. “A fucking pig.”

Dean laughs, and she tries to hide the grin on her face. 

“You’re something else, you know that, right?” He comes closer, placing his hands on her shoulder, kneading lightly and she looks up, sees him upside down. He bends over her, kisses her nose. “Come on or we’ll be late.”

“Late for what?” She asks and Dean’s already taking off a shirt of his that she usually uses to paint in. 

“Come on,” He takes the crutch, holds it out for her and helps her out of the room.

They drive to a place Y/N’s pretty familiar with and her heart starts to thump in her chest. Her face flares up, she can feel it.

Dean parks and helps her get out. They walk into the big open space and she can’t help but ask, “What are we doing here?”

They’re in the dog park. The one where Y/N used to meet with Linda. 

“We’re meeting someone.” Dean says and adapts his pace to her slow one.

In the distance, she sees a woman waving at them and all of a sudden, she feels nauseous, cold sweat starts to bead on her forehead. 

_Linda._

She looks at Dean and he’s actually smiling. “How? Why?”

Dean looks down at her, one arm sneaks around her waist. “Baby, I know more about you than you think. In fact, I think I might know you better than I know myself.”

She frowns at that and Dean’s thumb comes up to stroke over the crease between her eyebrows.

He goes on, “The things you told me since you’re back? I knew about them already, I just wanted to hear it out of your mouth to make sure that people were telling me the truth. Linda was one of them. She contacted me about eight months after you left, asking me if I know where you were. Lady thought I killed you off at first, wanted to, and I quote, _‘Tear my balls off with her own two hands’_ if something happened to you and I was the reason for it.”

Y/N has to laugh at that because yeah, that sounds like Linda.

“I told her that if someone should know where you are, then it’s her and not me. Linda then said that she quit the Bureau because she had a hard time living with the guilt of sending you away, and after six months, she was allowed to finally be free, that’s why she couldn’t get in contact sooner. She suggested that we meet and she chose a bar we could meet at where she knows no Feds would be around. We kinda bonded over a couple of gins.”

“You don’t even like gin.” She cringes her nose because she doesn’t like it either but Linda loves it.

“But I like you and Linda is kind of a scary woman, to be honest. I was nervous as hell. And I found out that she’s basically the only one person you have left in the world who’s close to you. So, after I got you here and was sure that you’d stay, I contacted her. But she was off on vacation and just got back today. I want you two to get along again.”

She has tears in her eyes and he brushes them away with his thumbs. “Thank you.”

“Told ya you’d be thanking me later. Now go on, I’ll just wait here.”

“You don’t wanna come?”

He looks over to Linda who’s still far away and Y/N can see that the lady has a stern expression on her face. It’s really just Linda’s resting bitch face that she’s used to. “Uh… I’m kinda intimidated. I’ll wait here and join you later when she doesn’t look as mad as she does right now.”

“Coward.” Y/N mutters under her breath.

“Hey,” Dean frowns, “Whatever. Just, don’t tell her that I absolutely can’t stand gin, okay?”

She laughs and Dean let’s her walk to meet Linda.

  
  
  


*

  
  
  


After the first couple of minutes with Linda the tension starts to drain from her body. She realizes that she missed that woman so much, is thankful that Dean arranged it.

“You gave me the wrong information,” Lisa says with a frown and she realizes that it’s to throw her off, because then the woman’s expression turns into a little smirk. 

“I’m sorry,” Honestly, she doesn’t know what else she can say to that.

“It’s water under the bridge.” Linda huffs out a breath, “Well they were furious that they didn’t catch Dean. And there’s no trace whatsoever that led to him. But I know why you did it. I’ve been in your shoes.”

“You once told me that it’s either them or him and I wanted him.” She mutters, looks down to her hands that are resting in her lap.

“I know,” Linda places one of her hands on top of hers, “You can be glad you were out at the time, they raised hell after to find you but you were hiding well. You were always so thorough. Your dad was the same.”

“I take it as a compliment.” She smiles, and her heart blooms. It’s good to know that everything’s over. Good to know that nothing can stop her from being with Dean anymore.

Y/N parts with Linda with a clear conscience and a heavy heart. Linda still lives too far away to visit on a regular basis but she’s determined to visit once the cast is off. Linda has gotten herself a dog too, and Y/N can see that Linda’s much more relaxed than she used to be. It must be the weight of working in the Bureau that’s been lifted off her shoulders. Maybe the weight of not chasing after a ghost of a man that is her father, and being out for vendetta too. At least that’s the case for Y/N.

In the car on their way back, Dean takes her hand, places it to his lips, pecking the back of it. She can feel his beard tickling her. That’s right, Dean’s grown out his scruff because she told him that she likes it a little more beardy. He laughed at first but he starts to like how she scratches at his beard whenever they kiss.

“What did Linda say at the end?” Dean asks because Linda had pulled her to the side before she got in. 

She shrugs, “That I should blink twice if this is a hostage situation.”

Dean frowns and looks at her, one of his eyebrows is raised. His lips are purses, the dimples of discontent showing. She loves the look on him.

She can still hear Linda talking to her: _“You know, when a man truly loves a woman, she becomes his weakness. That’s why we were so scared for your well being because we knew that he loved you. We never knew that it was the other way around, too, though. I guess when a woman truly loves a man, he becomes her strength and that’s what I observed in your behavior but I didn’t want to believe it. I didn’t want to see that it was because you fell for him. That your independence and rebellious behavior was, because he gave you strength to stand up and throw all the things you have worked so hard for overboard. He’s a good one, Y/N. I just tune out the life he had before but I can see how much he cares for you. Keep him, alright? And should he hurt you, let me know. I can make it look like an accident.”_

“No, really, what did she say?” Dean asks again. 

Y/N grins at him, “She said that if you hurt me she can make it look like an accident.”

“She doesn’t have to,” Dean looks at her with a sad expression on his face, “I could never hurt you. At least not deliberately.”

“I know. It’s just me who hurt you.”

“And that’s okay. We’ve been through this.”

She sighs, looks out of the window because she doesn’t want him to see the tears in her eyes. She wants to tell him that it’s actually not o-fucking-kay. But every time she tries to say how sorry she really is, he always says that it doesn’t matter since she’s here now. She really doesn’t know how she deserves someone like Dean.

  
  
  


***

  
  
  


Dean’s phone rings as they get back to the apartment and she walks to the couch, drops herself down and cozies up next to Bubbles on the blanket. 

“Oh shit, yeah.” He says, “Of course I’ll take her with me, if that’s cool with you guys.” And then later, “I’m sorry I was a little busy but yeah, put her down.”

Y/N sees Dean looking over at her and she opens her mouth to talk but he holds out his hand with his index finger raised. 

“Yeah, thanks. Cool. I’ll see you later.” Dean hangs up and walks over to her, drops his body next to her and lifts her legs, drapes them over his thighs. 

“Where do I have to go with you?”

“A wedding.”

“But—”

“—No but,” Dean says, his hands rubbing at her legs. “I forgot to tell you. Cas is getting married.”

“Wow, that’s awesome. I hope it’s still Anna?”

Dean chuckles, “Yeah, the wedding’s in two weeks. You think you’ll be up to it? I mean, I kinda have to go since I’m his best man and it would be super awesome if you would come with me.”

“Don’t they all hate me?” And that’s really her only concern. What if they really do hate her because she hurt Dean?

“Nobody hates you. I never said a bad word, honestly. Told them that you probably had a reason for leaving and let’s be real, if someone should hold a grudge it’s me and not them.” He pulls her close by her arm, let her rest her head on his chest and she can hear his heartbeat. 

“It’ll be only a little more than a week after the cast will be off. I can’t wear heels.” She says, knows that it’s a stupid excuse.

“You’ll be fine in flats. A little short, but perfectly fine.” He’s smirking a little and she punches his chest. 

“I don’t have a dress fit for a wedding.” She’s pouting now and sees him licking his lips. Apparently, it still does things to him.

“I think the glitter tube dress would be alright.” Dean tries his best not to laugh and she punches his chest again. “It’s alright,” He then says, “I’ll buy you one.”

“You want me there.”

“One thousand percent sure that I absolutely do.”

“I’ve never been to a wedding before.”

“Two people saying _I do_. There’s a lot of food and booze, you’ll manage. Gabe will be there. Sam and Jess. So at least you’ll know someone.”

“Are you saying this because you won’t have time for me?” She raises an eyebrow in question.

He exhales and it’s like he really tries to explain it so she would understand. “I can’t be with you all the time, yes. But I really want you there and Cas too, actually.” Dean tries to pout, “Please?”

She has to laugh, “You look ridiculous.”

“Ridiculous? It usually works when you pout at me.” Dean tickles her, and she almost falls out of the couch from laughing.

He wrestles her around, lays her down on the couch and tickles her some more and she has a hard time catching a breath. 

“Okay, okay!” She shouts, still laughing, tears accumulating in the corner of her eyes. “I’ll come. Just stop!”

And he does, a smile on his face as he hovers above her. He inches closer, their noses almost touch. 

Dean looks her in the eye. His are still the greenest of green, his freckles standing out, she forgot how much she loves them. “You’re really here.” He whispers, as if he still doesn’t believe it.

“I am.” Her hands come up, winds one around his neck, fingers playing with the short hair at the nape of his neck while she trails the fingers of the other hand over his brow and down his cheek, feels the deep crease of the crinkles around his eyes.

“And you’re staying.”

“Yes.” She nods, “For as long as you want me to.”

“Forever.”

That’s fine by her too.

Dean kisses her then and she closes her eyes, feels tears running down the side of her face.

  
  
  
  


***

  
  
  


The next day, Dean wraps her legs up thickly, because he wants to take a bath and apparently, taking a bath on his own isn’t really his _thing_ so she has to go in with him, even though he let someone come around to install a shower bench and with that, she can even take a shower on her own. 

Y/N’s in the warm water with him, her head on his chest and his hand on her stomach, just holding her.

“Why do you think a bath isn’t something to be indulged alone?”

“I’m a man.” Dean answers simply.

“So?”

“You know, men should like fast cars, beers, sports… not baths!”

She has to laugh. “You never took one on your own?”

“No, too many memories.” He says, and then adds, “And don’t you dare say that you’re sorry!”

“Okay,” Her voice is low, she lays her hand over his that is resting on her stomach. “So, uh, I was wondering, will you give me a grand tour of the house?”

“You wanna see?”

“Yeah, I’d love to.”

“It’s not finished.” Dean scoops a handful of warm water, drips it down her shoulder so she will stay warm.

“I don’t mind.” 

Dean kisses the back of her head. “Okay, but first the cast must go off.”

  
  
  


_____________________________

  
  
  
  


Dean had wrapped her up after the bath and helped her into the bedroom, while he stayed behind to clean the tub.

When he walks back out again, she’s propped up on the bed, her back against the headboard, her legs spread wide and she rubs herself there. 

Dean’s taken aback, was not prepared to walk into this and he can’t lie, the sight does things to him.

And fuck, he really did try to be good for five weeks, didn’t he? Would it be so bad if he gave in? Because she sure as hell wants it too and her little teases all those weeks didn’t go unnoticed. He was the adult here though, averted her advances, told her that she has to get better first, and it’s been hard, alright. Quite literally. He’s been fucking hard for five freaking weeks. 

“Baby, what are you doing” His voice comes out strained, he doesn’t even recognize it himself anymore.

“Duh,” She grins and threads her fingers through her slick, “What does it look like?”

Dean’s missed this. Miss the bratty attitude of hers. She must be off her period already, because last week she didn’t tease him at all, instead she said that she was on her period while emptying a container of ice cream on her own. She even sent him out to buy a new one because she couldn’t move from the couch with her stomach cramps, and while he’s at it, he should get her a pack of tampons. Dean remembers it faintly, and was embarrassed about it because who knew that women need so many different brands of sanitary pads and tampons. He didn’t know which ones to get so he filled his cart. At least now she’ll have enough to last her a lifetime. 

He can’t stop staring now, can’t stop watching her rubbing at herself. The sound of her wet pussy is loud because she’s so soaked already. He loves that, loves how wet she gets and almost forgot how good it feels. 

Trying to ignore her, he walks to his dresser. “Keep doing that if you wanna get fucked, just saying.”

She watches him, her head thrown back, her bottom lips between her teeth, “Duh, that’s the whole plan.”

Dean turns around, balls his fists and rest them on the side of his body, his erection is very much prominent underneath the towel, he knows that. “Baby, I’ll hurt you. There’s only a week and two days left until you can take it off.”

She shrugs, “You can’t hurt me more than I hurt you.” 

And while that might be true, Dean still doesn’t really want her doing stupid things that will make her end up being in the cast longer than they both want her to be. Also, she’s mentioning the big elephant that’s always going to be present in the room with them. How much she hurt him. Even though he never wants to talk about it but she’s still so guilty and he doesn’t want that. She’s here now. That’s all that really matters to him.

“Please?” She says and fucking pouts, knows full well what effect it has on him and it’s not really fucking fair because she doesn’t even leave him a chance to say no. 

Her fingers dip inside of her, and she can’t really work her hips against it because of her cast, “I can’t do it on my own.”

He doesn’t know what to say, it’s like the blood in his brain travels down to where his other brain is located. One that he hasn’t used in so long he doesn’t even know if he still knows how it works. Plus, he thinks, he might be drooling.

“Y-y-you sure?” Since when does he stutter? Dean swallows hard and she nods.

 _God dammit_. 

His walls are crumbling, teared down by one simple nod.

Dean’s hands are on his towel, couldn’t pull it down fast enough to climb onto the bed. She’s grinning like a fucking winner. He hates it. Wants to kiss it away.

He gets closer, bats her hand away from her dripping cunt and she fucking giggles. From this distance, Dean can literally smell her. He drools some more, swallows the excess saliva down loudly. Taking her hand that he batted away, he licks at her fingers, moaning as he tastes her on them. It has been way too fucking long.

Y/N bites her lips, her cheeks are bright pink. He lowers himself, shoulders between her legs, hooks his arms around her thighs and pulls her lower and towards him. She lets out a shriek of laughter.

Dean’s now only a couple of inches away from her as he looks up again, “You really want this?” He raises an eyebrow in question and sees her rolling her eyes.

“Just fucking do it! Please?” 

Well, at least she has manners. 

“So fucking bratty,” He mumbles, and indulges himself, licks a stripe up her core with his wide tongue, hears her moan above him and smiles into her pussy. 

Her hands found his head, stroking and crawling his hair and his scalp. He likes that, likes how she strokes him while he goes down on her. 

Dean sucks at her nub, nibbles lightly along her folds. He looks up to see her playing with her tits one handed and one of his hands go up, bats that hand away too before he twists at the nipple, rolls it between his fingers before he kneads her tits. He’s missed that too, a good handful, feels like it was made to fit into the palm of his hand.

His other hand toys at her entrance, dipping in only to his first knuckle and Dean has to groan out, hums against her clit at the feeling of being inside of her. 

“More, please,” She keens above him, tries to wriggle with her hips.

Dean closes his eyes, works his finger deeper in while sucking at her clit. He really has to concentrate on not coming because everything feels so fucking good right now. She’s still so fucking tight and he’s only in with one fucking finger. 

“More, Dean, more!”

She’s basically fucking into his face. Needy little thing. 

He eases another finger in alongside the first one, and has to hold his breath for a moment. He hums out against her clit, sucks it in before he breathes hot air against her core. 

“Oh god,” She moans, her hand grips his hair.

He has to chuckle, even though his mouth is still full of her. Curving his fingers, he rubs on the inside, and she clenches around him, so fucking close already. 

Flicking his tongue around her clit, he sucks it in and lets it out with a lewd pop, sucks it in again, shakes his head from side to side and hums while she says something above him but he doesn’t know what it is, can’t understand a word she says. 

“Oh fuck! Shit, fffff—” 

Dean looks up in time to see her come, his fingers are drenched and there’s the sloshing sound as he fucks in and out lazily, his chin is dripping wet. He places kitten licks on her clit, her legs shake because she’s too sensitive. 

He smiles when she comes down from her high and looks down to him. Climbing up her body, he places little kisses on her stomach along the way, pauses longer at her tits, kisses and sucks at her nipples and she arches her back, pushes her chest into his face.

_Jesus, he really did miss all of this._

Placing kisses along her throat, he works his way up to her face, kisses her chin, her lips, and she opens for his tongue. Her hands are on his shoulder and in his beard, stroking and scratching.

He parts when he needs to breathe. “How do you think you taste?” 

She smiles shyly, “Sweet.”

Dean grins and pecks her lips, “Sweetest fucking pussy. Could eat you for days.”

He knows he already said that before but it’s the truth.

“Now fuck me,” She breathes out and Dean’s heart nearly stops. “Please?”

“Christ, how did you get so fucking bratty?” He grins but adds with his next breath, “Baby, you really sure? I really don’t have t—”

“Please?” Her one good leg goes around his back, pulls him closer, and his dick is so close to her pussy that’s so soaked he almost slips in. “I need it.”

How could he say no to that? It’s even harder when she sucks on his tongue, making him forget his own goddamn name.

“Okay bu—”

“—Yeah, yeah, I know, not hard or fast.”

Dean’s jaw drops.

_This fucking girl._

He kisses her again, hard. Hopes her lips fucking bruises because she’s a fucking pain in his ass with her bratty behavior and pushes himself away, couldn’t go past her nipples without sucking them in on his way. 

Kneeling between her thighs he grabs them, positions her so that his dick is basically resting on the rim of her entrance. He grips the head, “Still time to back out.”

“I want it in, not out.” She says with a pout.

_That fucking pout._

Dean eases his way in then, inch by inch, feels her walls hugging him tight and he pauses mid lengths, needing time to breathe it out. “Fuck,”

She wriggles her hips and her hands come down to her thighs, helps him by holding them spread. “Dean,”

“I got you, baby,” He says but he doesn’t know if it’s the truth, he’s so close to losing it and he isn’t even in yet. “So fucking tight.” He grits his teeth at the pressure when he works in some more of him. “Jesus.”

At last he manages to bottom out, stills for a short while, looks down to see that her eyes are closed and she frowns. “How are you feeling?” He asks because he’s a little worried.

“Good,” Y/N breathes loudly through her mouth. “Full. So full. You’re so deep, oh my god.”

“Should I not go deep?” He seriously doesn’t know because she used to like it deep. 

“No, no.” She says, opens her eyes and smiles, “It’s good. It hurts but a good kind of hurt. Move please.”

He nods, and begins to move his hips. Has a hard time not to go hard and fast but honestly, he wouldn’t know if he could last as long if he would go hard or fast. He has a hard time as it is.

Dean fucks into her, slow, deep. 

His eyes widen when he sees her cupping her pussy with one hand and he almost chokes on his own saliva when he feels her working two fingers in alongside his cock. 

“Jesus, baby,” He pants, “Fuck, does that feel good, huh?” 

He can see that she works the heel of her hand against her clit, the stimulation of his thrust hits her where she wants it.

“Yeah, oh god, so good.”

“It feels incredible for me, too.” Dean breathes hard, she just got so much tighter and wetter.

It’s not long when she starts to tense and he feels her thighs shiver around him, the walls around his dick literally vibrates with how her muscle tightens. 

She comes, her head thrown back, her eyes closed as she forms an ‘o’ with her lips. 

_Beautiful fucking sight._

It takes him only two thrust to reach her level as he bottoms out, his balls are pressed against her ass and he groans, a little louder than he normally would, as he spills his cum deep inside of her. 

Dean collapses, still has enough functioning brain cells to brace himself on his elbow so as not to crush her. He buries his face in the crook of her neck, breathes in her scent. It’s intoxicating. 

She takes her fingers out of herself and Dean helps by lifting himself a little. The loss of her additional two fingers isn’t a good feeling at all.

Her hands come up, her arms fly around his shoulder and she plays with the short hair at the back of his neck. He loves that. 

They’re both still panting as he kisses her throat, her cheeks and finally her lips. His hands stroke back the hair that fell into her face. And he kisses her forehead, her nose, smiles back at her when he sees her smiling at him.

“You know,” He says, his nose rubbing against hers, “Some say that there are people who were made for each other and I think that it’s true. It’s like you were made to fit me.”

Y/N laughs at that, cranes her neck to steal a kiss, “That’s so cheesy.”

“Hey!” He grins, kisses her once more and it builds so fucking fast. 

He just came but he just couldn’t stop himself from getting hard again. It’s like he wants to make up for lost time, at least his dick wants that. He’s still logged inside too, feels her walls hugging the thick of him as it gets bigger.

“Oh my god,” She bites her lips when she feels it too.

“My name’s Dean, not god.” He grins and starts to move his hips and this time, he stays down, has his elbows braced on either side of her face and kisses her as deep as he fucks her. 

She hooks one leg behind him, rests it on the small of his back, her arms around his neck, nails clawing at the broad of his shoulders. 

“You feel so good, baby.” He whispers, dark and low, he is out of breath. 

Dean fucks her, deep and slow. Kisses her again, pours everything he has into the kiss. Things he shows but doesn’t say in the hopes that she gets him. A silent plea of _I love you_ and _Please never leave again because it will kill me_.


	38. Chapter XXXVIII

Y/N wakes up with Dean breathing down her neck. 

“Dean,” She says, pushing back a little to get him awake.

“Jesus, what?” 

She giggles. Dean’s always so cranky when he gets woken up. His sleeping schedule has changed completely since he’s not working anymore and even more since he takes care of her. To her, it feels like he’s been catching up on sleep that he’s missed since the day he came back from the war.

“Today’s the day.” She says, and turns inside the covers, hitting her cast against his shin.

“Fucking Christ, Y/N!” Dean shouts out in pain.

“Sorry.” She whispers and Dean lies on his back, spreads his arm out and lets her crawl in. 

“It’s okay, just be careful. What’s today?” He asks but she thinks he knows. She’s been talking about it or a week! Counting back the days and hours leading up to it.

“The cast?” She says anyway, rubbing it into his face.

“Oh, the cast!”

  
  
  


*

  
  
  


They’re sitting in the hospital where she has an appointment for a last check up. She has to undergo a last x-ray that’s why they couldn’t let Sergei remove it. 

Dean’s sitting beside her in the examination room after she took the x-ray, mindlessly browsing through his phone when she feels something warm between her thighs. She whimpers softly.

Of course Dean hears it, and leans closer, whispering to her, “What is it?” There’s a look of concern on his face and he puts his phone back into his pocket.

She blushes and there’s the door opening, the doctor comes in with x-ray in hand. 

Leaning to Dean before the doctor sits down, she whispers back, “Your cum just ran out.”

Dean’s jaw drops and he swallows hard, tries to make a straight face when the doctor starts to talk about her injury.

She hides her smirk.

It was kind of an accident this morning. Dean had helped her with the plastic bag for her cast before she showered, only thing was that she was already naked and really, one thing led to another and she found herself pinned to the shower walls with Dean’s cock rocking up into her. 

He had asked her where she wanted him to come and honestly, there’s not many places that she likes it, and she likes it most when he comes deep inside. 

Dean was taken aback, but he was so close he couldn’t even pull out anymore even if he wanted to.

That leads them to now, where his cum is leaking out of her and she knows that Dean likes the idea. Loves it when he knows that she leaks him. Maybe not really while she sits at the doctors with him checking her ankle while she wears a skirt, and the doctor could technically see her damp panties. 

She flinches every time another blob of cum runs out of her, and the doctor thinks he hurt her while he works on her cast and all Dean does is grinning like an idiot every time she flinches. 

The doctor asks her about her pain level, hands her another pack of painkillers just in case and with that, they’re off.

Dean’s hand is on the back of her neck, squeezing as he walks her to the car. “Fuck, I had a hard time concentrating in there knowing you’re leaking me while the doc could see it.”

He pushes her against his car, her back hits the rough door, and kisses her rough and hard before his hand disappears underneath her skirt to rub at her clit through the damp panties. Dean slips a finger inside, runs it through the thick slick of his own cum before he groans into the kiss. His finger comes back out and he brushes the slick finger at her lips, she sucks it in, which makes Dean groan out even louder and he pushes his hips forward, making her feel how hard he is.

“Can’t wait to get you home,” He growls, parts from her and opens the car door for her. 

“What will you do when you get me home?” Her grin is cocky, just how he likes it and she knows.

Dean leans his elbow on the car, whispers to her in a low dark voice, “Oh, you’ll see.”

He slams the door close and runs to his side, gets in and starts the engine. He drives off with a screech, takes Baby to its limits.

Y/N has to laugh as they’re on the road, folds her left leg up on the bench and turns her body towards him. She watches him for a while, looks at the vein in his neck, Dean’s biting on the finger of the hand that’s not on the steering wheel.

“Stop looking at me like that.” He drawls, it’s loud and deep. 

“Looking at you how?” She’s baffled.

Dean frowns, “I know that look alright, it’s when you’re up to no good.” And with his next breath he adds, “The answer is no.”

She moves forward anyway, grins stupidly as she lowers herself down, lays her hand on his thigh.

“Baby,” His voice vibrates, it’s some kind of a warning, she knows that, it’s just… she doesn’t really care. 

Her hands work on his belt, and Dean groans, looks down to her, a crease between his eyebrows. She palms his cock through his pants, feels it hard underneath the cotton of his jeans. “Seriously, I don’t have any cops on my payroll anymore. We’ll be in so much trouble.”

Her fingers already lower his zipper down, and she looks up at him, pouts a little too, for the effect.

“Please, daddy?”

She can see Dean’s hand tightens on the steering wheel as he lets out a loud moan upon hearing her say the word. He can’t resist the combination of all the things that triggers his fancy, and she’s missed that. Missed how easy she can rile him up. How easy it is to get him to cave in, because he’s doing just that, as his hand goes to her head to push back a strand of hair that’s fallen in her face, while her fingers lower down his zipper. Dean doesn’t say anything, only looks at her like she’s the only thing that matters.

  
  
  


_____________________________

  
  
  
  
  


The week leading up to the wedding is uneventful. She’s back to drawing and painting mostly to kill the time, tries to find a purpose in life again since she now literally has nothing else to do and no injury to recover from. 

Maybe, Y/N thinks, she can talk Dean into letting her work on the new house with him. Because that’s the place where he’s at most of the time since she’s cast-less. He wants to get some things done before he could show it to her and he’s excited for it like a kid on Christmas morning. 

She usually stays up until he’s home, mostly watching crime documentaries on Netflix and cuddling with Bubbles. She misses Cuddles, missed that old grumpy cat and she still blames herself for leaving him behind. 

It’s three days until the wedding and she’s been out and bought a dress, found some nice flats to go with it and cozies herself up with a container of ice cream when she hears the turning of a key in the lock. 

Dean comes in, walks to the couch to greet her and bubbles. He smells like plaster and varnish. He steals a spoonful of ice cream, before stealing a kiss from her. “Be right out.” He says and she knows it’s because he goes to take a shower. 

Sometimes Dean would come back to see her taking a bath and upon seeing it, he undressed hastily to join her. They also manage to go to Bobby's once when Dean came home earlier. That was nice. Bobby was delighted to see her, even though she was scared to go there at first, still thinks that Dean’s people will hate her. 

After she eats half of the container, Dean comes out of the bedroom, dressed only in his pj pants, his hair and body still damp. She clenches her jaw, because the sight does something to her. The sight being him shirtless, with damp ruffled up hair. He comes closer and she can see all the little freckles sprayed on his body. 

“Why aren’t you wearing a shirt?” She asks, raises one eyebrow, not that she minds, though.

Dean sits down next to her, one finger hooks into the collar of her shirt, pulling at it a little. “Because you’re wearing my shirt.”

Oh.

Yeah, that’s right. 

He usually comes home and changes into a shirt after showering and he wears the same shirt for a couple of days, because he usually sleeps shirtless, only wears it to sit with her on the sofa. Today she missed him, so she took the liberty to wear it because it smells like him and she loves that.

“C’mere.” Dean spreads his arm and she climbs into his lap, the ice cream container still in her hand and all. 

Y/N lays her head on his shoulder, and Dean kisses her forehead before he takes the container out of her hand. 

“Yeah, take it before I empty it.” She says and buries her face into the crook of his neck. She sniffs him, his scent totally makes her light headed.

He laughs, eats the ice cream and watches TV with her for a while wordlessly. She likes that too, next to talking or sex. She likes how comfortable they are in their silence. She doesn’t always need to talk and she doesn’t always need him to talk. Sometimes it can be really great to just sit here and not talk at all. 

When the show ends, the ice cream is gone and Dean gave it to her to set it on the coffee table, because she’s still on his lap and he couldn’t move. She takes the remote, zaps through some channels to see if there’s anything on.

“Can I ask you something?” Dean asks out of the blue.

“Sure.” She says, not sure where this is going but they make it a habit to answer anything truthfully.

She looks up at him and his finger comes up to paint over her face. Painting the line of her eyebrows, down her nose, the crease around her lips. As if he wants to memorize her with the tip of his fingers.

“Why did you think I could ever be happy? I mean, without you.” 

He’s talking about the letter she left, she knows that. Sometimes, he would ask her things that crossed his mind. There’s still a lot of _why’s_ and _what ifs_ that they need to work through.

Y/N throws her arms around his neck, lays her forehead to his face, feels his bread scratchy and somehow soft. “Because,” She says, “When you love someone, all you want is for that person to be happy, even if you’re not part of that happiness.”

“It’s bullshit, though.” 

“Language!” She warns him.

Dean sighs, “That’s bullcrap!”

“Why?”

Dean’s arms come up around her and he places his lips to her forehead and mumbles into her skin, “Because there’s really no happiness when you’re not part of it.”

  
  
  


***

  
  
  


Anna and Cas’ wedding is upstate and Y/N is packing her things because Dean said that he’s booked into a hotel nearby so that they wouldn’t have to make the long drive back after. 

She’s already dressed in her navy blue cocktail dress as he walks in wearing a fucking suit, he still looks like a walking billboard ad for an expensive perfume and she thinks that it’s probably never going to change. Dean manages to look flawless with everything he wears and it’s really not fucking fair.

He’s never seen her dress before so he takes some time to take in the view before he opens his mouth to ask, “Not red?”

“It’s a wedding, I don’t wanna stand out and steal the thunder.”

Dean chuckles at that, walks closer and bends down to kiss her. “Well, you do steal my heart.”

“Ugh. So cheesy."

“Hey!”

They laugh and he picks up their bag. She wonders why they had to dress up already when they could do it there in the hotel but Dean makes up some excuses and what does she know. She’s just his _‘plus one’_ anyway. Today’s certainly not about her. And also not really about Dean, even though she needs to tell him something that’s been nagging her. She decides that it could wait. Doesn’t want to ruin the mood, especially not when there’s an almost two hours drive ahead of them with no way to escape each other should things get awkward.  
  


*

  
  
  


It’s a beautiful place which Cas — or rather Anna — has chosen for the wedding. An old manor, with a big white pavilion in the middle of a meadow. A square wooden dance floor off to a side, tables set up all in white to the other side. There’s a flower arch in the back too, with white chairs lined up for the ceremony. 

Y/N wonders if her wedding would be similar to this as well. Wonders if the man standing next to her would be Dean. She doesn’t even know if Dean wants to get married at all and if yes, would she be the one he would want to marry?

Although she likes the set up and thinks it’s lovely, she still thinks that it would be too much for herself. A little too over the top. She would want something smaller. Only a handful of good friends and people, maybe in a backyard. There’s no need to really rent out anything and make a big fuss about it. But she doesn’t judge, people are different and that’s okay as it is.

They were amongst the first ones to arrive because Dean wants to be here for Cas. They find him in the manor, off in a room by himself.

Dean went straight in, hugged his friend and did some prep talk. It’s a while before Cas even notices her. She’s a little shy, didn’t have time to go and meet them beforehand since she’s been back.

“Hey, Y/N,” Cas’ voice is steady, calm. Although he’s nervous, she can see that.

“Hi Cas,” She smiles and the dark haired man opens his arms for a hug. She goes in willingly. “Congratulations!”

“Thanks,” Cas says, “It’s good to have you back.”

“No hard feelings?”

“No hard feelings from me.” Cas nods before he looks over to Dean, “Well, I can imagine that someone was hard, though.”

Y/N laughs as Dean puts Cas into a headlock.

Dean and Cas were talking and she knows that Dean pulls out everything he’s got to distract his friend. She wonders if she should go find Anna, at least introducing herself because she’s never seen the woman before but then again, she thinks that Anna probably has a lot to worry about right now and she shouldn’t interrupt her. There’s still time for when they all will be less stressed.

  
  
  


*

  
  
  


She sits between Jess and Gabriel when the wedding starts and Dean’s standing next to Cas in front of the arch. God he looks good and she can’t help but think about a wedding where Dean is the groom. How he would stand there and wait for the bride, a smile on his face as big as Cas’. He sees her and winks, and she blushes at that, afraid that he can read her mind.

The music starts and Anna walks in, a wedding gown in champagne color and oh god, she looks so beautiful with her red hair and all, there’s a little bump which is perfectly accentuated by the dress Anna’s wearing. Dean had told her that Anna’s pregnant and she couldn’t be happier for Cas.

Y/N frowns at first because Anna looks damn familiar and then it hits her.

“Is Anna’s name Milton?” She whispers and asks Gabriel. 

“Yeah, why?”

“Ah, nevermind.” She says, but in reality, she does mind because her heart starts to pump faster. 

That’s Anna Milton. Brad Milton's big sister. Her ex-boyfriend’s big sister. And she knows her, she knows his mother. She looks around and spots the mother and Brad in the first row. 

Ah, that’s just really great.

  
  
  


*

  
  
  


After the wedding Dean comes to find her, wants to introduce her to Anna but she holds him back before he could drag her over. “There’s something I need to tell you.”

“What is it?” Dean’s one hand is on the small of her back.

“I know Anna.”

“Okay? From where?” He frowns a little but he’s not really irritated.

She sighs, “My boyfriend in high school, Brad. She’s his sister. I know their whole family.”

Okay, maybe Dean is a little irritated. Because he frowns some more, the creases between his eyebrows deepens as his lips try to form words.

“The one who took your virginity?” 

“Dean!” She shushes him, he’s so loud! She can only hope nobody heard him and whispers, “Yeah, but that was a long time ago, alright?”

“But you two still text and all that.” Dean hisses now.

Yeah, she forgot that they do, haven’t done it for a while though, but Dean didn’t miss the fact that they still keep in touch because she told him when they came clean about their lives.

“Once every six month probably, yeah. We parted as friends.”

“Huh,” Dean exhales.

“Look, I just wanted to tell you because I don’t want you finding it out from someone else around here, okay?”

“I need a drink.” Dean says and turns to leave.

She grabs at his arm, hard enough to make him turn back around. “Dean.”

Dean clenches his jaw, he doesn’t say anything, looks past her head, his gaze lost in the crowd. But she doesn’t say anything either, just waits til the storm inside of him is over. 

After a while, Dean lowers his face, his hands come up to cradle around her cheeks, thumbs tracing along her skin, “I’ll be right back. Wait, okay?”

“Okay,” 

And with that, he’s off to the bar.

He once told her that he’d like to kill all the men before him because they have found her first but what would he do to someone who was her first sexual experience? She doesn’t want to know, hopes that it won’t be a big issue because they’re adults now, right?

Dean comes back about ten minutes later, cradles the back of her neck and pulls her into a kiss, “‘M sorry,” He says, and he tastes of whiskey. “I’m trying to change, try not to be jealous and think that everyone could take you away from me. Please be patient with me?”

Her frown disappears and instead, there’s a smirk on her face. “Of course.”

“Good,” Dean smiles back, pecks her lips once more, “Okay, come on, gotta parade you around.”

Dean takes her hand, drags her to Cas and Anna and she’s actually surprised that Anna still remembers her and she hugs her so tight Y/N has a hard time breathing. Brad’s not around so at least there’s that. Dean doesn’t seem to be irritated anymore, or maybe he’s just really good at hiding it.

  
  


*

  
  
  


In the evening, Dean’s helping Cas’ with something when she stands off to the side of the dance floor, smiles as she sees happy faces and some who are drunk off their heads trying to dance, when she hears a familiar voice next to her.

“Ah, I finally caught you alone.” Brad comes to stand next to her, his hands in his pockets, as if he’s a little shy, maybe he is, because they haven’t seen each other for such a long time. He hasn’t changed, still has a big grin on his face, that charming golden boy smile and he’s overall just really adorable looking, like he used to be. She hugs him briefly before they watch the dancers together. “You want a drink?” 

“No, thanks.”

“Mind if I get one?”

“Why should I mind?”

“I just want you to stay where you are, can you do that? I wanna talk and catch up.”

She nods, “Yeah, sure.”

Brad nods back before he dashes to the open bar and is back before the song is even over. He sips his drink, holds it out to her and she shakes her head. “I forgot, you’re not a big drinker.” 

“I just don’t really feel like it.” She shrugs, which is probably weird because they’re at the wedding. Eating and drinking is all people do here. 

Brad stands there, one hand in his pants pocket and one hand holding his drink. “Never thought you’d know the bad guys, Y/N.” 

She turns her head, looks at Brad. “You know what they did?” 

“Yeah,” Brad says, “We’ve all known but Anna loves Cas so we turned a blind eye, as long as he didn’t pull us all in, we were good with the relationship. Not that it had mattered much. You know my sister, she’s as stubborn as can be.”

She chuckles, “Yeah. Remember how she was furious that we broke up?”

Brad rolls his eyes, “She blamed me even two years later. Said that I let the best thing that ever happened to me slip through my hands.”

“Awe, she was exaggerating.” She says and her eyes wander around, sees Anna and Cas on the dance floor now. Which must also mean that Dean’s around here somewhere.

“I don’t think she was,” Brad drinks up, “She was kinda right. I liked what we had but then your father died and you weren’t you anymore, you know?”

She nods to that, “Yeah, I know. I’m sorry.”

People are clapping their hands, applauding the band and soon they start up a new song. 

“Don’t be. It’s understandable. It’s just if I could go back, I would probably help you more, you know? Not being so selfish and only thinking about my own future. Yours mattered too and you were hurt and angry and I wasn’t there.”

“Brad, really,” She says, putting one of her hands on the wrist of his hand that’s holding the now empty drink, “It’s okay. I’m okay now, ain’t I?”

Brad snorts out a laugh, “Yeah, you are. Quite the catch you got there, Y/N.” 

She blushes at that. 

“Say,” Brad starts, “Does he make you happy? I mean, are you happy?”

She’s a little taken aback by the question and she might take a little too long to answer because she spots Dean in the crowd. His eyes on her as he dances with Anna’s grandmother. The woman is all over Dean, pressing her face into his chest and Y/N couldn’t help but grin. Dean sees her too, most likely he did see Brad standing next to her either because a flinch of irritation crosses Dean’s face before he’s smiling at something the grandmother says. Dean winks at Y/N then before he continues to swirl the grandma along the dance floor.

“Is that him? With my grandma?” Brad asks.

“Yeah,” She answers with a smile. 

Brad’s laughing, “Granny can get handsy, I hope he’s okay with that.”

“Oh, I think he’ll manage.” She joins in with Brad’s laughter.

The music stops and the crowd claps as the singer announces the first official dance of Mr. and Mrs. Novak. 

Dean apparently manages to break free from Brad’s grandmother and he walks in her direction.

“Hey,” Dean greets them both and she sees that he’s met Brad before. Of course he has because he’s Cas’ best man and they probably went out for dinner and what not with the whole family already at least once. Dean probably even befriended Brad without knowing that he was her ex. 

Dean weaves his arm around her waist, holds her there and pulls her towards him, kisses the top of her head. “You okay?” 

She looks up and smiles, “Yeah, are you? Brad said that his grandma can be handsy.”

Brad’s laughing at the comment and Dean purses his lips before he says, “Well, she did ask me if I wanna join her for a drink in her room after the party, so.”

“You know,” Brad jumps in, “If I wouldn’t know my granny, I’d think that you’d be joking. But it does sound like her.”

“What did you say?” She asks Dean.

“Said I’m already spoken for by the prettiest girl around here.” Dean smiles, bends down to kiss her. 

“Knowing her, she’d say that it was her, didn’t she?” Brad’s grinning, unfazed by their PDA. 

Dean turns his head, rolls his eyes at Brad, “Yeah.” 

The men both laugh and Brad starts to tell Dean other anecdotes about his flirty grandmother, and that’s when she thinks that Dean has changed. That he’s trying to change. Trying to get away from his usual jealous self. He trusts her, she knows. She has won back his trust and she’s very happy about that.

  
  
  


_____________________________

  
  
  
  


They watch the dancers for a while until a girl comes up and asks Brad for a dance. Dean wonders if she wanted to ask Dean first but saw that Dean’s arm is around Y/N and the girl wanted to save her face so she asked the next best guy around. Because the girl has been giving him eyes the whole night already. It actually really doesn’t matter, he thinks. 

Brad accepts with a smile, leads the girl to the dance floor but before that, Y/N holds Brad back, “I owe you an answer,” She says, “I am. I hope you are too.” 

Brad nods, “Good. And yes, I am, too. That’s all that matters, Y/N.”

They watch the girl pull Brad in the middle of the dance floor, smile as he spins her around. 

“He’s a good dancer.” Dean says, is probably a little surprised how she could be so terrible when her ex boyfriend is so good.

She drives her elbow into his side, making Dean flinch, “What are you trying to say?”

“Nothing.” Dean knows when to stop. There will be no winner coming out of a petty argument. Instead he asks, “What did he ask you?”

Y/N looks up to him with a bright smile, “If I’m happy.”

“Are you?” Dean’s arm goes around her.

“Uh-huh,” She wraps her arms around his middle and Dean cradles her face, making her look up at him.

“Uh-huh?” 

“Yeah.” She smiles.

He lowers his face, kisses her forehead, her nose, her lips. “Come on,” He then says, releases her grip and takes her hand, pushing his way through the crowd and she follows, no question asked.


	39. Chapter XXXIX

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is it guys. This is the end. It was a wild ride and I thank you for taking it with me. I'm a little sad to see this end, to be honest.

Dean walks her through the mass of people, shouldering his way across the dance floor with the breadth of his shoulders. They part for him easily. It’s like he’s still got that vibe of authority around him. People respect him, people listen to him when he talks, people are looking up to him. She’ll never get used to that, because even though Dean can be acting all though, he’s really just the softest when he’s with her. 

It’s when they walk out into the parking lot that she has to ask, “Where are you taking me?”

“You’ll see.” He says, looking back and there’s a huge smile on his face.

He walks to his car, opens up the door to let her get in and she hesitates, “You’re the best man, I don’t think you should be leaving now.”

“It’s over, we ate, we drank, people can have a good time without me,” Dean explains, “Besides, Cas knows and he’s okay with it.”

“But the bride didn’t throw her bouquet yet.” She doesn’t know why she says this, she doesn’t even know if they all are throwing flowers because she’s really never been to a wedding before. 

Dean’s eyebrow climbs up his forehead, “Do you want to catch the bouquet?”

“I don’t know?”

“You don’t like flowers.”

“Yeah, but still.” She crosses her arms but decides to get into the car. 

He closes the door, walks around and settles in before he turns to her, “Baby, you don’t need a bridal bouquet.”

  
  
  


*

  
  
  


“Are we there yet?” She asks, because she can’t even see. 

Dean had taken off his tie and blindfolded her with it before they set out on their journey, asking first if she trusts him and of course she does. So now she’s sitting in the dark, with no sense of orientation whatsoever. 

It feels like they’ve been driving for hours already.

“You just asked six fucking minutes ago.” Dean growls beside her. 

“But we’re not there yet!”

“No.”

She sits back, tries to relax. 

After a while, though, she asks again, “Dean, are we there yet?”

“Jesus, baby, just be patient!”

“I don’t like surprises, is all.” She mutters under her breath.

Dean chuckles, “I know. But you’ll like this one, I promise.”

She nods, leans her head back before she opens her mouth again to speak but Dean cuts her off.

“I swear if you ask me one more time if we’re there yet, I’ll turn the car around and we’re going back to the wedding!” 

“Wow,”

He laughs then, “I always wanted to be able to say that for once in my life.”

  
  
  


*

  
  
  


Y/N must have been sleeping by the time they arrive. Dean’s nudging against her face, pokes at her cheek with his index finger. 

“Are we there yet?” She mumbles groggily, almost forgets that she still has his tie around her eyes. 

Dean chuckles, leans closer, kisses her. She doesn’t see him, but feels him. Thinks that maybe she’d like to do that one time in bed. Having him wrap one of his ties around her eyes so she wouldn’t be able to see but only feel. 

He doesn’t take the blindfold off yet, though, and it’s somehow exciting but at the same time she’s anxious about it. Can’t help it. She really does not like surprises. 

She hears him getting out of the car, a moment later the door on her side opens and he scoops her up.

“Hold tight,” Dean whispers and she does, wraps her legs around his body as he closes the car door before he gets something out of the trunk. From the way he’s breathing, it must be their bag.

He walks her along a path, feels him going up little steps and then another path. There’s jingles of keys as she feels him fishing out something from his pants. And then she hears a turning of a key, hears an opening of a door. A click. Switching on of a light probably, because it gets brighter, and then he drops her down and positions himself behind her, his hand on her shoulders.

Dean lowers his head and whispers next to her ear, “You ready?” His big hand squeezes her shoulders, rubs up and down. 

“I don’t know,” She whispers back, “Should I be?”

Dean laughs into the back of her head, leaves a little peck before his fingers unknots her blindfold. 

It comes off and she blinks, lets her eyes adjust to the brightness of the light above them. 

Y/N’s standing in the entrance to a house, the walls are white around her, and there's a stairway that leads up the stairs to the second floor. 

“Look,” Dean says, turning her a little to a drawing he framed and hung up on the wall next to the door. It's her drawing, the one with both of them together plus Cuddles and Bubbles. 

She has tears in her eyes, can’t help it.

“Come on, I take you on a tour. It’s not finished yet but I sped up and got all the things done we would need to be able to start living here,” Dean pulls her along and she can’t even open her mouth to protest. Not that she wants to. 

They walk through the door and stand in a kitchen, it isn’t fully equipped yet but there’s a fridge and two stoves that they can use. The kitchen isle is still wrapped in packaging. 

“This is where you’ll spend most of your time.” Dean presents the kitchen to her, says it with a straight face. 

She elbows him in the rip. 

“Ouch! What was that for?” He wraps his hands around her, kisses her temple. 

“Oh, you know,” She says and they stand there, with Dean’s arm around her. “Once this is finished, it’ll be beautiful.”

“Come on,” Dean says, drags her into another section of the house. He shows her the dining table and there’s a terrace to the back. They step out to it but it’s already dark and she can’t see a lot. She still remembers it from the listing though, remembers that there’s a huge yard, a meadow that drops to a pond. She’s sure that the view’s amazing by daylight. 

Dean stands behind her again, wraps his hands around her middle, hugging her from behind. “Look up.”

She does, looks up to see stars in the sky. 

“We can see stars from here. Imagine sleeping out on the porch, looking up to the sky, how does that sound?”

“Amazing,” She says, because it really truly is. 

“Now, let’s go to the bedroom.”

She gasps dramatically, “Dean, I’m not that easy!”

He snorts so loud, she thinks he choked on his own saliva for a hot minute. He picks her up after, throws her over his shoulder and goes in, mentions the living room in passing. There’s already a couch, a TV’s still missing. Dean climbs up the stairs, his hand on her thigh and ass and he spanks her twice, making her yelp up with a laugh.

Y/N sees everything upside down when she turns her face but the nicest view is actually Dean’s ass in the fitting dress pants. Can’t quite take her eyes off of it. She spanks him too, for good measure. 

Dean just growls and she’s hanging from his shoulder until he walks along the landing to the last room to the left. 

Dropping her down on the bed, he follows, propping himself up on one elbow on his side as he watches her take in the room. 

It’s painted white with a heavy wooden closet and bed frame. There’s an adjacent room, which she thinks is the bathroom. 

He’s still on the bed as he watches her get off it to walk over to the window. The room overlooks the meadow. 

She turns back and smiles before she peeks into the bathroom. She tries the switch and the room lights up.

There’s a big window and an equally big bathtub. 

“The bathtub’s the first thing I installed in here.” He’s standing at the door, head leaned against the door frame.

She’s surprised that Dean sees the bathtub as  _ their _ thing too. She loves bathing with Dean, doesn't really want to admit that she never liked bathing before she met him. 

“Is it big enough for the both of us?” She asks but knows that it is. It’s bigger than a normal tub, but not as big as the tub he has in his apartment. 

Dean walks over, squeezing her arm in passing, “We can test it.”

  
  
  


*

  
  
  


They’re sitting in the dark in the tub, have turned off the lights because the stars are shining in the skies, they can see it when they look out of the window. Dean leans the back of his head on the ledge, her head’s on his chest. His fingers stroking her in the warmth of the water.

“How are you feeling?” Dean asks, his hands coming up to massage her shoulder, her chest.

Y/N leans into the touch, her hands stroking his thighs on either side of her body. “Good. Great, actually,” She says, and adds, “Thank you for showing me.”

“You’re welcome.” Dean chuckles, his big hands come around her body, laying one hand on her stomach. “Can you imagine living here? With me?”

Y/N still think it’s cute how he asks. On one hand, he shows her all this as if he’s made the decision for both of them already but on the other hand, he’s afraid that he might have gone too far so he opts for asking.

“Only if it’s okay with you.” She answers, because, yes, of course she wants to live here.

“Oh, I’m more than okay with it.” He smiles, as he sits up a little, making her sit up with him, and places kisses along her shoulder. “I was thinking of a room for your art. You can decorate it yourself.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. We can move in as soon as today. Living and working on finishing it.”

“That sounds really good.”

Dean’s hand travels up her stomach, cups her tits in his big palms, fingers twisting at both her nipples and she has to bite down her bottom lip as not to moan too loud. “They delivered the bed two days ago. Thought I’d never get it on time.”

“On time for what?” She turns around in his grip, braces her hands on either side of his hips and goes in for a kiss, soft and slow. She breaks it before it could get too hot. “Dean Winchester, have you been planning on taking me here to seduce me?”

He smiles, bright and white, “Is it working? I even tested the bed to see if it creaks.”

She’s about to go in for another kiss but has to stop when she hears it. Has to hold herself back from laughing. “How did you test it? Did you get on the bed and wrestle around on your own?”

“Hey, don’t judge!” He’s laughing himself, his hand comes up around the back of her neck and pulls her in for a kiss. 

  
  
  


*

  
  
  


Dean spreads her out on the bed, deliberately leaving the lights out and the blinds open. The light from the stars is enough to wrap Dean up in a glowing light when he’s standing at the foot of the bed. 

My god, how did she get so lucky again? He’s looking like a goddamn full course meal when he’s standing there, naked, watching her watching him.

He strokes himself with one hand, and she’s about to move a little to see better when he stops her, “No. Stay. Spread your legs baby, I wanna memorize how you look with the light.” 

Y/N’s blushing. Is thankful that he won’t see that.

“You’re goddamn beautiful.” He whispers.

And it’s probably another agonizing two minutes until he comes to the bed and crawls towards her on all fours until he’s shouldered between her thighs. 

He kisses her thighs, one side then the other, nibbles and sucks at her flesh, moves closer to the place where she wants him most, but he’s stopping short, does the same thing all over again until she’s almost dying of anticipation.

“Dean!” She wriggles her hips and he has to hold her down.

That little shit just chuckles, “What do you want me to do? Tell me.”

“I want your mouth.” 

Dean looks up, raises an eyebrow, “Where do you want my mouth?”

“Oh god,” She props herself on the elbow, and Dean’s laughing because he just loves to get on her nerves, too. “I want your mouth on my pussy, Dean. Want your talented tongue licking and sucking at my clit, want you to get your tongue as far into my pussy as it would go and fuck me with it. Make me come and drip my juices all over your face. Please?”

Dean’s expression changes from playful to serious. He loves when she talks like that, it turns him on and she knows, uses it against him sometimes, like now. And she thinks Dean was not prepared to hear it, was not prepared how he might have just tortured himself with his question.

“Fuck, baby,” He mumbles before he licks a broad stripe up her folds. “You’re already so wet. Tastes so fucking delicious. So sweet.”

He dives in then, spits and licks and sucks like her pussy is really that good. Like he couldn’t be happier when she lets him eat her out. His beard is scratchy, prickles on her sensitive skin but she welcomes the burn. It’s so good. 

Dean lowers his face, buries his nose into her folds and his tongue in her pussy. 

My god, his tongue is massive, so wide and long and it already stretches her when he licks into her and fucks his tongue as deep as he could go without suffocating between her thighs.

He comes up for air, works his tongue around her folds, sucks in her clit as his hands make their way up her body. He toys with her tits, slaps on them and twists her nipples while he shakes his head and hums with her clit between his teeth. 

Y/N’s hands fly to his head, grips at his short hair, pulls him in further without even wanting to but she’s on the edge, ready to fall off a clif. 

“Dean,” His name makes it past her lips in a quiet sobbing moan while her back arches, pushing herself against his face. 

She closes her eyes, breathes hard and she swears, she sees white dots flying around behind her eyelids. 

After a while she starts to laugh while Dean’s still cleaning her up down there. She clasps her hand over her face and laughs wholeheartedly.

Dean comes up and she looks down, sees his face shining in the light. “Good?”

“My god, yes.” She giggles, her hands go down to cradle his face, thumbs brushing away at the wetness in his beard and face as she pulls him up to kiss him. 

One of her hands goes between them, searching for his dick she thinks she has to work back up to it’s erected state but to her surprise, she finds it hard and it’s hanging heavy between his legs, the tip’s weeping wet. 

She doesn’t know how he does that, how eating her out for so long and chasing after her pleasure is something he really and truly enjoys, something that turns him on so much that he’s still fucking hard he could pound a nail with it.

Y/N strokes him while he kisses her and she tastes herself on him. Dean has to break the kiss but he leaves his forehead on hers. “Go on, do that and I won’t be fucking you tonight.”

And she does want that, wants him to fuck her, wants to feel him, so she lets go, “How do you want me?”

“You let me choose?” He’s laughing.

She grins and nods, “Yeah.”

Dean kisses her again before speaking, “The floor length mirror didn’t arrive yet so I guess you’ll be riding me tonight.” He turns on his back next to her. “Come on, hop on cowgirl!”

Laughing, she straddles him and teases him a little by grinding her pussylips over the length of his shaft. It feels so fucking perfect already. He helps her by gripping her hips, pushing and pulling her. 

Suddenly, she feels his hands coming down on her ass, spanking her hard enough to leave a mark. “Baby, seriously you want me to fuck you or not?”

She has to laugh at that and gives in, her hand picks up his dick, positions it to her entrance and slowly sits down on it. She can see him biting down on his bottom lip, the frown sits on his face. She works it in deeper, sits down lower until he bottoms out. 

“Oh god, you’re so deep,” She moans, resting her hands on his chest and Dean’s taking deep breaths to even out his excitement. 

Pausing, she takes deep breaths herself, is close to losing it because his dick always hits the right buttons on the inside of her. 

“Goddamn it, baby, can you move? I’m dying here.” Dean growls low and dark, he’s gritting his teeth. 

She starts to bounce up and down, slowly at first but then she gets faster. Dean spanks her ass once, twice, leaves his hand on the flesh of her ass cheeks, kneads it while he helps her bounce. 

“Jesus, you’re so beautiful up there with the light. I could watch your tits bouncing around all night.” His hands come around her body, palms cupping her tits to emphasize it. 

“Choke me,” She breathes out in a whisper, but Dean hears her nonetheless because his hands come around her throat, pressing down, cutting off her air supply. 

Y/N starts to ride him harder, faster, chasing her orgasm that’s so close. 

“That’s it,” Dean breathing hard himself, is trying actively not to come before her. “Ride through it, baby. Keep on riding. Good girl, you’re doing so good. Christ, you feel so fucking perfect.”

“Dean, I’m—”

“—I got you, baby.” Dean whispers, pulls her down until they’re chest to chest, wraps his arms around her and starts to fuck up into her, chasing boths their release for her and for himself.

“Look at me, baby,” Dean pants through gritted teeth, urges her to stop burying her face in the crook of his neck. 

And she does, braces her hand on the side of his shoulder, looks at him, the tip of their noses touch. “Dean,” She says, feels that familiar tingling feeling crawling up her spine and her eyes cross for a brief second. 

Dean smiles at her, pulls her in for a kiss as he comes deep, bottoming out as deep as his dick could go.

They lie in the dark, her head on his chest. She listens to his heart beat while he strokes her back. It’s only when she’s shivering that he peels her off him, slips his soft dick out which makes her flinch. He lays her down and covers them both with a blanket. 

She has her head on his shoulder, draws an invisible drawing on his chest. They’re both almost falling asleep but then something hits her. “Bubbles!”

Dean chuckles, “Don’t worry. Sam will go feed her.”

“You really thought this through, didn’t you?”

He kisses the top of her head and pouts, “It’s like you don’t even know me.” 

Y/N smiles at that before she goes still. Her heart picks up speed because there’s still something that she wants to get off her chest but she’s afraid of how Dean would react.

“What is it?” Dean asks and really, how does he fucking do that? She didn’t say anything yet.

She sighs, “I have to tell you something, promise not to be mad?”

He turns on his side, hovers above her. “I never get mad at you.”

She knows that but still.

Dean doesn’t say anything, just watches her, a little crease between his eyebrows. 

“Well,” She starts and breathes in and out before continuing, “Do you think the house will be finished in about nine months time?”

“Why such a precise number?” Dean frowns some more.

She doesn’t say anything, just keeps on staring at him, waits for him to put two and two together, hopes he’s not that dense when it comes to taking hints.

The crease between his eyebrows grows deeper, and then there it was, the realization that hits him like a freight train. His lips form an ‘o’.

“I’m not sure because I haven’t done a test yet but I’m four days late.”

He smiles before leaning down to kiss her eyebrow, her nose, her lips. “Why should I be mad about it?

“I don’t know? Maybe you don’t want a baby now that you have freedom. Maybe you don’t even like kids. Mayb—”

Dean kisses her again, cutting her off, it grows so hard she thinks he’s bruising her. They break off for air, and Dean leaves his forehead on hers. “It’s true, I never wanted a baby. At least I never wanted one in my former life. But I would want one with you. Hell, give me a hundred.”

She giggles at that, “There’s no way I can birth a hundred babies. You gotta find someone else for that.”

“But how? You’re on birth control.”

Y/N shrugs, “I guess the many painkillers were contra productive and I don’t know. I took it regularly. But it could also be that I missed a day or two, I really can’t remember. Are you mad? Maybe the mistake is on me?”

“‘M not mad. And it’s not you. No contraception is 100% effective. You don’t have to be a genius to know that.” Dean pecks her nose, gets out of bed and picks up his pants from the floor. He gets back into them before searching for his shirt, gets into it and buttons it up.

“Where are you going? You leaving me?”

He finds it, pulls it over his head, and comes around, leans down to place a kiss on her forehead. “Relax, I’m gonna go get a test.”

“Dean, it’s past 1AM.”

Dean shrugs, walking out of the room but calls back, “There’s food in the fridge. And you better drink a lot because you need to pee. No falling asleep, you hear me?”

She rolls her eyes.

“Stop rolling your eyes!”

How does he do that?

  
  
  


*

  
  
  


It’s more than an hour later when Dean gets back with a bag full of tests. 

She eyes him, “Do you want me to pee on all of them?”

Dean sits down, takes off his shoes. “Actually, you can pee in a cup and we can use that pee for all the tests.” He says, “I let them explain it to me.” 

“Oh my god.”

“What? He asked if I knew how it works and I said I actually didn’t, so he started explaining and it was actually really interesting.” Dean says with a straight face as his hands go under the blanket, searches for her feet to pull her to the edge. “Now move your ridiculously cute butt to the bathroom and pee into the cup I bought.”

“We’re really doing this. Now?”

“Duh,” Dean scoops her up, walks her to the bathroom, the bag still in her hands, and drops her down before he walks out. “Just peeing, no testing yet!”

She rolls her eyes.

“Would you please stop rolling your eyes!”

  
  
  


*

  
  
  


They’re sitting on the floor in the bathroom with their backs leaned against the tub. She still has a blanket wrapped around her and watches as Dean unpacks a test.

“Okay, we have to dip that into your pee for five seconds. You ready?”

“No.”

“Jesus, Y/N!”

“I can’t. You do it.” She clasps her hand over her face.

Dean breathes out, “Fine.” He grumpily takes the cup and dips the test into the pee, counts to five and takes it out, pushes the cover over it until it clicks. 

“What now?”

“Now we wait.” He says.

She lays her head on his shoulder, and Dean starts to shake the test. “It’s not a Polaroid, Dean.”

“Maybe it’ll be faster like that, you shush your mouth.”

They both start to laugh but soon the laughter dies down when Dean turns the test to read. 

“That’s a plus sign, no?” He asks and she can literally feel the blood draining from her head.

“I feel nauseous.” She mumbles, and starts to fan at her face with her hands.

“Baby,” Dean drops the test and cradles her face with his palms. “Look at me,”

She lets her hands fall to her side, opens her eyes. “I’m—”

“—It’s okay,” He’s soft voice soothes her as he kisses her chin, her lips. “I got you, okay?”

“I’m— ..wow.”

“Yeah, I know.” Dean says and she can feel his hands shaking too. “Shall we try another one? Just to be sure?”

Y/N could only nod. 

The second one comes out even more positive, if that’s even possible and she has tears in her eyes. Yeah, sure, she always dreamed of having children, but it’s too early, isn’t it? Things only start to fall into place now.

Dean lays his arm around her shoulder, strokes her head when she leans it on his shoulder. 

“I need a drink,” She mumbles.

“Yeah, me too.” Dean agrees but doesn’t get up, knowing that she’s not allowed to drink anymore for the time being. 

“We’re going to be so lost. I can barely take care of myself.” She chuckles but it’s not even funny anymore.

Dean has to smile at that. “Can’t lie, I’m terrified. But we’re gonna get through this together, don’t we?”

“Yeah.”

“We can ask Cas and Anna for advice and we watch and learn from their mistakes.” 

She snorts out a laugh at that. 

“I think I now have even more reason to do this,” Dean stretches out a leg to fish something out from his pants pockets and holds it out to her.

Y/N shakes her head as she sees that it’s a box, “No, Dean. No, you don’t have to. I’m not expecting you to, just because I’m pregnant.”

“I know, but I want to.” He says, “Just, don’t judge when I don’t get on my knees alright? I think they’ll give out if I do.”

She has to chuckle at that, and her eyes are getting wet. 

Dean opens the box and she cries even more. She was expecting something big and over the top where she will have to tell him that it’s too much, that he should tone it down but it’s just a simple white gold ring with one single strong diamond, which is just perfect, really. 

Dean clears his throat, he sniffs too, “I actually wanted to ask you earlier. Before you left me. Had planned it through. Was about to ask you to marry me after the coup but you were gone.” His voice is a little shaky, “And when you came back, I wanted to make sure you would want to stay. And I think for the past week, I thought about asking you again, had actually planned to do it tonight in our new house. So, no, it’s not only because you’re pregnant.”

“Dean,” She wants to say more but she couldn’t, she can’t form words in her head.

“That’s my name, yes.” He jokes and she punches his arm with a laugh before she starts to sob again. 

“I love you, Y/N. I want you here with me. I want you to be the first thing I see when I wake up, the last before I go to sleep. I want you to drive me nuts,”

She raises her eyebrows a little, “Even when I can’t decide on what to buy when we go groceries shopping?”

“Even then,”

“You want me here, even when I steal your blanket?”

“Yes,”

“Even when I can never decide where we want to eat out?”

Dean snorts out a little laugh, “That actually annoys the fuck out of me.”

“Even when I annoy the fuck out of you? You still love me?”

“I want you to annoy the fuck out of me. I want you. Period. You understand? I want to be the last person who kisses you,” He pinches the bridge of his nose, “Wait, that sounds terrible, like a threat or something. What I’m actually trying to say is, you’re it. This is it for me and I don’t want anything else. I would give up everything I have as long as I can keep you in my life. And now I wanna ask you, if you’re okay with it, can I keep you?”

She weeps into the palms of her hand and Dean pulls her close, laying her head on his shoulder. He places a soft kiss on the crown of her head.

When she doesn’t answer right away, he goes on, “Like there’s really zero pressure. I don’t want you to feel like you  _ have _ to marry me. Not at all. We can just take it one day at a time. We don’t even have to marry at all if that’s not what you want. It’s just a way for me to tell you that you’re it. You’re all I want.” His voice is shaking a little too, “What do you say? Huh?”

“You’re an idiot,” She chuckles between tears.

“I know,” Dean grins a little.

She nods, “Yes,” before looking up and hooking her arms around his neck, presses her wet face to his to feel his lips against hers. 

Dean smiles into the kiss.

Y/N realizes that she never needed much in life. She never wanted or could imagine herself having a fairy tale ending. All she really wanted in life, she realizes, was something just like this.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I might be open to writing an epilogue or a follow up, maybe little scenes. I don't know, maybe you can let me know what you'd like to read?


	40. Chapter XL

Please read the sequel

[Sky Full Of Stars](https://archiveofourown.org/works/24071926/chapters/57932194)

Thank you <3


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